


I'll close my eyes and dream of days when I wasn't all alone

by kozume_kun



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Car Accidents, Childhood Friends, Confusion, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Fights, Getting Back Together, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Past Relationship(s), Sugawara Koushi is a Good Friend, Temporary Amnesia, daichi too, kind of, somebody help iwaizumi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2019-10-30 23:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 51,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17838287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kozume_kun/pseuds/kozume_kun
Summary: “You're telling me,” Iwaizumi locks eyes with the doctor. “That I’m not seventeen years old,buttwenty three?”





	1. All that I know is gone (take what is left of me now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, a huge thank you to @nightshade002 on tumblr for beta-read this for me!  
> This is my first time posting one of my works so I really hope you like it :)  
> Have a nice day, everyone!

Iwaizumi wakes up twice.

The first time he does, is on a volleyball court. Seijō's volleyball court. He's sitting in the middle, both legs crossed in front of him and leaning into his arms, right next to the platform where the referee supervises the matches. Iwaizumi looks down at his own chest, covered by a white shirt with a big number four in turquoise, drawn right in the middle of his chest.

Iwaizumi frowns, "what the—"

"Iwaizumi-san," a familiar voice interrupts him. "Iwaizumi-san."

The court looks darker, suddenly. It's like all the lights are pointing to the kid standing in front of him. Kageyama Tobio, with his gaze fixed on Iwaizumi and both hands clenching around a volley ball, "Kageyama?" Iwaizumi mumbles, feeling a little —completely— lost. "What is happening? What are you—?"

"Iwaizumi-san," the younger cuts him off, bowing. "Teach me how to serve, please."

Iwaizumi is on his feet then, looking at Kageyama like he just said the most ridiculous thing in the whole world. He looks way younger than what he remembers, almost like he’s back on his first year in Kitagawa Daiichi, when they first met. _What the hell is happening?_

Kageyama walks a step closer. “Iwaizumi-san,” he insists. “Can you teach me how to serve? Please. You're the best player on this team.”

“But I'm not—” Iwaizumi’s head hurts from how deep he is frowning. “I’m not the best player, that’s—that’s—”

“You can’t even say my name now, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi turns around quickly, feeling how his world spins around. He’s not sure if it’s due the abrupt movement he made or the fact that his childhood best friend is there, a few steps away from him, smiling warmly as he spins a ball in his hand.

“Long time no see, Iwa-chan,” he hums.

Everything is swallowed by the darkness, Iwaizumi included. _This is just a dream._

—

The second time Iwaizumi wakes up, everything is a little less confusing. It takes him some time to get that he’s in a hospital though. The smell of disinfectant and starched clothes is what gives him the first clue, before he’s able to blink his eyes open.

It's a single room; the bed where Iwaizumi is laying is in the center of the place. He can see that the night has taken the sky outside through the window in his right. Then, when he tries to turn his head to look at his left, there’s an acute pain running through his neck and down his chest. Iwaizumi groans in pain and tries to reach for the aching place with his hand.

“It’s only going to hurt more if you touch it,” a female voice speaks. “Try again. Turn your head around, slowly.”

It still hurts like hell, but Iwaizumi keeps himself from emitting any sound as he turns to look at the woman. A nurse, who looks vaguely familiar to him. The identification plate hung on her apron reads Kiyoko in a monotone font. She has black hair tied in a tall ponytail, and pretty blue eyes hide behind a pair of glasses. Iwaizumi swears he saw before the little mole she has in the left side of her chin.

“Well,” Kiyoko says. “I’m going to ask you a few routine questions before calling the doctor,” she explains as she takes the board at the end of Iwaizumi’s bed. “How are you feeling, Iwaizumi-san?”

Iwaizumi sighs. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”

Kiyoko nods. “Do you feel nauseous?” Iwaizumi shakes his head slightly. “Dizzy?” another shock of head. “Any growing pain I should know about?”

“No, just—my ribs,” he ends up confessing. “My ribs hurt a lot. And my neck hurts too, now,” Iwaizumi murmurs. “But why am I here anyway? What—what happened?”

The nurse writes a few things down on the papers in the board, before looking at him. “It wasn’t a truck, but you got hit by a car. Actually, you were in the middle of a car accident,” she explains and Iwaizumi wonders if that kind of things should be said so suddenly. “The seat belt prevented you from hitting your head against the steering wheel or being thrown out of the car through the windshield, but it produced a few internal injuries instead. And there are a few cuts and scratches, of course. But don’t panic,” Kiyoko says at Iwaizumi's expression. “It’s nothing too bad. It’ll hurt and you’ll have bruises that are going to take a few weeks to go away, but lucky you," she points at him with her finger and gives a small smile. "There are not broken bones.”

Iwaizumi blinks a few times. “ _A car accident_?” he finally manages to say. “But—but who was I with? Are they okay?”

Kiyoko frowns slightly, tilting her head. "You were alone, Iwaizumi-san," she answers as she leaves the board in the drawer next to Iwaizumi’s bed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s normal if your brain blocks the memories of a traumatic event. You’ll remember progressively.”

“But how—” his mouth hangs open for a few seconds. “I don’t even know how to drive.”

“What?”

“I don’t have a driver license,” Iwaizumi mumbles then. “How the hell did this—”

“Are you telling me,” the nurse cuts him off lifting her hand. “That you were driving a car without having a driver license and without actually knowing _how_ _to drive_?”

“I—I don’t know!” Iwaizumi snaps, feeling frustrated. There’s a sharp pain then, cutting through his brain and he groans again, holding his head only to found that is wrapped in a bandage. “Fuck”

Kiyoko crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I’m going to call the doctor. Please, lie back and wait for him.”

Iwaizumi can’t say a single word before the door is being closed behind Kiyoko’s back. He lies down, his right hand still pressed against his temple in attempt to calm the sudden headache. It’s seems like something impossible though, since his mind doesn’t stop trying to figure out what the hell happened. Did he lose a bet and have to drive because of that? Was he drunk? Or maybe he was high and—no. He’s an athlete; he hasn’t even smoked once in his life. Getting drunk, on the other hand—

There’s a knock on the door before it swings open. Iwaizumi’s mouth almost drops open when he sees the one and only Sugawara Kōshi stepping in the room. Okay, his mind might be a mess right now, and he can be confused as hell too, but Iwaizumi is a hundred percent sure that Karasuno’s vice captain is _not_ a doctor. 

Sugawara looks a bit older. Iwaizumi is sure he saw the silver haired boy not long ago and it’s impossible for him to grown older in that short time. Sugawara looks like a man now, with his features more sharp and manly, and Iwaizumi vaguely thinks that maybe this is not Kōshi but some older brother.

“Hello, Hajime-kun,” the doctor smiles at him. “It’s good to have you back.”

—

 _What the hell is this beard_ is the first thing Iwaizumi thinks when Sugawara gives him a hand mirror and he first sees his reflection. _I look like shit_ is the second one. “I know it can be a bit shocking, but you haven’t changed much since high school. You’re just a little bit more—” Suga makes a gesture with his hand. “Bigger. And sharp, too.”

“You're telling me,” Iwaizumi locks eyes with the doctor. “That I’m not seventeen years old, _but_ twenty three?”

Sugawara nods. “Yes,” he says with a little smile. “I know it looks bad, but posttraumatic amnesia is something common in this kind of cases. Patients usually don’t remember the accident they were involved in. Even a few hours or days previous are forgotten as well.”

“But you’re telling me I don’t remember _six years_ of my life,” Iwaizumi replies. “Is that normal, too?”

“Well, yeah. It all depends in the kind of contusion and in the patient itself,” Suga takes sit at the end of the bed. “It usually takes a few weeks, but most people get their memories back. I haven’t had a case like this before, but you don’t have to worry, Iwaizumi,” he smiles warmly and pats his leg. “The guys and I are going to help you get all of your memories back. And soon you’ll be going home, that’s going to help you too.”

“The guys, you say?”

Apparently, Iwaizumi has become a little more sociable during college, and he has now a group of close friends. People Iwaizumi had never thought he could be friends with. Like Sawamura Daichi, that apparently is not only one of his best friends but also his boss —as Sugawara had told him—, and who’s currently sitting next to Iwaizumi's bed in a chair, dressed in a black suit that can only be tailor-made. He must be successful. _Am I successful too?_

“So,” Daichi clears his throat. “You don’t remember anything? Like, do you remember me?”

Iwaizumi stops himself from rubbing his neck in signal of discomfort. “I do remember. And I do remember you, but like—you know, from high school,” he gulps, looking away. “Like, you being Karasuno’s captain and all of that”

“Right,” he nods, smiling. “It must’ve been shocking for you to look at Suga then.”

“It was,” Iwaizumi confirms, his lips curving into the tiniest smile. “I actually though that he was some kind of—I don’t know, an older brother of Sugawara-kun or something like that.”

Daichi laughs. “If he hears you addressing the kun to his name again, he’s probably going to put something in your food to make you get sick.”

Iwaizumi lets out a short laugh and then there's only silence. A really uncomfortable silence. He looks at the window as if was the most interesting thing in the world, while his ears catch the rustle of Daichi's clothes as he takes his phone off of the pocket in his pants.

“Suga told me it would be okay for me to show you a few things and answer the doubts you have,” Sawamura explains as he scrolls through his phone. “So, do you have any—um, any particular question?”

_I have a lot, actually._

"What do I do at the company?" Iwaizumi asks first because he doesn’t even know where to start. "I mean, I know you're my boss but like—yeah"

"Oh," Daichi smiles. "We work in the marketing apartment. The whole team does pretty much the same, including me: sales strategies, studies on the current market. Devaluation, revaluation—you look like you are not catching a single word of what I am saying."

"I—" Iwaizumi shakes his head slightly. "No, I’m not. Sorry."

Sawamura smiles warmly at him. “You’re going to catch on it soon, don’t worry,” he assures. “So, what’s the next question?”

Daichi answers him every single question Iwaizumi asks, even when he stupidly asks if his birthday is still on June 10th. Iwaizumi finds out that he moved out at the age of twenty and that he has been living all alone since then. “You’re always complaining how you would love to have a pet so you won’t feel so lonely,” Daichi tells him. “But then, like two seconds after that, you’re taking it back because with your work schedule the poor animal would be alone most part of the day.”

Even if he doesn’t play volleyball professionally, Sawamura tells him that they usually play on weekends with a few ex-teammates and friends. Daichi names a few of them but the only two names that keep echoing in Iwaizumi’s mind are Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

But Daichi doesn’t say the name that Iwaizumi is expecting. And Iwaizumi doesn’t ask about it either.

“So, I’m still friend with them?”

“Yeah,” Daichi nods. “You keep in touch with most of the Seijō’s team, actually”

Iwaizumi nods while in his mind he reviews all the faces and names of his ex-team. There’s a particular face—a stunning smile that makes his heartbeat rise up. He looks at Daichi and opens his mouth, the question ready to be drop off of his mouth, but Iwaizumi ends up shaking his head. “That’s—um, that’s pretty cool," he mumbles finally, scolding himself inside his mind. "What about our team at work? How are they?”

—

“Now, deep breathes,” Sugawara indicates as he moves the stethoscope through Iwaizumi’s back. “Once again,” he mumbles and Iwaizumi complies, even though the deep breathes make his ribs hurt like hell. “Your lungs are perfectly fine, and everything seems normal,” the young doctor informs while he writes down on the board in his hand. “The x-ray showed that everything is fine inside too, so we can confirm that you’re just bruised and confused.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, "awesome"

"I'm going to prescribe you painkillers and you better take them, you hear me?" Sugawara points at him with his finger, “because I'll be dropping by your place this weekend to see if you're taking your meds and being a good boy, and you’re not going to be able to fool me."

Hajime just nods as an answer. He may not remember a shit about his current life, but Daichi made very clear the fact that Sugawara takes the health of his friends to the heart (“It makes him happy to know that we’re all healthy.”), and once again, even if he doesn’t remember it, Sugawara and he are friends now.

“Daichi called your parents already to let them know about this,” Suga explains as he takes a sit next to Iwaizumi on the bed. “The hospital’s policy says that we must let them know right away, but since I was here and I know you—and Daichi came right away anyways, we waited until you woke up for that. Hope you don’t mind it.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head. "It's okay," he gives a small smile. "I guess it made them be a little less worried about me.”

“It probably didn’t, you know how parents are,” the doctor pats him slightly in the back. “I have a few more patients I need to check on, but your dad would be here soon. It might take one or maybe two days for your mom, but you won’t be alone for much, so don’t—” Suga cuts off his own words at Iwaizumi’s expression. “What happen?”

“It’s just—” Iwaizumi frowns. “Why is my mother coming later?”

Suga opens his mouth when realization hits him. “ _Right_ ,” he lengthens. “Well, I’m not the one who should tell you this, but your parents aren't—um, they are no longer together,” the doctor says (Iwaizumi really appreciates the way he tries to soften the words). “They got divorced around two years ago,” the gray-haired man adds while he shifts his position awkwardly. “I’m sorry that you have to hear it from me”

“No, no. It’s fine,” Iwaizumi tries to give a genuine smile. “I mean, it’s their life so—yeah”

"Okay, I'm heading out, then," Sugawara claps and Iwaizumi jolts a little. "Oh, and there's a button next to your bed. Press it in case that you need anything and Shimizu will come right away."

Iwaizumi lies back in the bed once he’s left alone in the room. His mind has a lot to process but he doesn’t even know where to start. Maybe his parents made a good choice. It’s not like the divorce affects him a lot, Iwaizumi knows they don’t even see each other that much and the sporadic times they meet in the house, it always leads to a fight. 

He stops his thoughts and sighs. They _didn’t_ , right. Iwaizumi is not in high school anymore, he’s not seventeen anymore and the fights must've been tiresome for both of his parents until they reached the limit. It was matter of time for them to divorce, Hajime knows that. But the fact that he doesn't even remember that, it's what annoys him.

The fact that he doesn’t remember the past six years of his own life it’s what annoys him. Iwaizumi doesn’t remember his graduation from high school, nor his whole college experience. He doesn’t remember the day he moved out from his parents' house or how he felt when he finally was able to have his own apartment. He doesn’t know if he has been working with Daichi from the beginning, if they were classmates or met at the company instead. Iwaizumi doesn’t remember anything about his job or how to do it, or the fact that he has been living alone for three years but doesn’t even know (remember) how to use a washing machine. Or cook consistent food.

Iwaizumi sighs deep and rubs his face with both hands. Sugawara told him that this is normal in cases like his, that it might take a few days —or weeks, maybe— but Iwaizumi’s memories are going to be back. He hopes so, at least.

Another deep sigh leaves his mouth. It’s just a matter of time to see if it's true.

—

His father has kept the house where Iwaizumi has spent his whole childhood and adolescence, mostly because his mom didn’t wanted to spend another minute in the place where she has been stuck her whole life.

Iwaizumi feels like they’re into a completely new neighborhood when his father drives them through the same streets he used to walk after school with— _no_. His heart aches, but Hajime isn’t sure if it’s due the memories of his teenage life or the fact that everything seems to be completely changed since the last time he recalls seeing the place. The stores are not the same, most of them are new and modern, and there’s a park near his ex-house now, right were the Fujimoto family used to live.

“The doctor said it would be better if you have someone around for a few days to keep an eye on you,” his father breaks the silence without taking his eyes off of the road. “So I thought it would be better if you stay at home with me for a week or so. Until, you know, you feel better.”

Iwaizumi nods absently but doesn’t say a word. He knows what Sugawara has told his dad, he was there. It’s not like it bothers him to stay at his parents— _father's_ house, it’s just the fact that everything is completely different what makes Iwaizumi feel overwhelmed.   

“It might help you, too,” his dad says and Iwaizumi finally looks away from the window. “There are pictures and all kind of stuff in your room. There’re a few from your high school graduation, and a few from college too. We can take a look at them after dinner”

Iwaizumi stops at the door frame and looks around, his mind trying to process how the house in which he remembers being yesterday now looks completely different. Outside, the façade remains the same. The walls painted in a neat white, along with that wooden door that always squeaked in a particular way when it was opened —even now— are still there.

But the inside is completely a different thing. Even if there are a few touches of the house Iwaizumi remembers, there's mostly nothing that remains the same. Adding at the fact that there is a new set of furniture scattered here and there, the walls have been painted in other colors too, and Iwaizumi notices a few places has been remodeled as well. He doesn't miss the fact that nothing screams _home_ in there, neither that the only thing left of his mom is a picture of her and a four-years-old Iwaizumi.

Hajime lets out a deep sigh. He just really wants this to end.

—

Almost a week goes by in a rush and the only things that Iwaizumi remembers by now are the code of his apartment, how to calculate the customer acquisition cost (whatever the hell that is) and how the first day in the company, he got stuck in the elevator with Kindaichi. Nevertheless, there are a few things that it seems to be burned in the back of his mind, probably thanks to the motor memory. Like the fact that surprisingly he _knows_ how to cook a few things, and that he _does_ know how to use the washing machine.

His father has been trying to be as helpful as he can, answering every question Iwaizumi asks honestly and showing him pictures from back then. It feels weird, since when Iwaizumi was seventeen, his dad used to work from dawn to dusk and was barely at home with them. But apparently now, he is an important business man and has a lot of free time, so he's always around.

On the other hand, Iwaizumi's mom is not in the house now and it makes everything even weirder. She chose to stay at a hotel near the house and Iwaizumi can't to reproach about that because he understands how hard it must be for her to go back to that place. They've gone out for coffee twice this week, nevertheless, and she has told him as many things as she could, even though it didn't bring any of his memories back. Iwaizumi appreciates how hard she tries anyways.

The pain killers have done their part, too. Even though his ribs still hurts a bit, and the bruises are still there, Iwaizumi feels a lot better than when he woke up. That’s why when Sugawara dropped by his father’s house, he offered Iwaizumi a drive back to his place, to take a look around. He is not sure why he didn’t ask earlier to go back to there. Maybe he feels a bit scared to let it all back again. It scares him to growth, even if he already did it.

“You can take all the time you need,” Suga says when the car stops in front of an apartment complex. “I can wait outside if you want some alone time to process everything.” 

It feels familiar to enter the code. And it feels familiar the way the door unlocks with a click. Iwaizumi steps inside with shaking legs and both eyes closed because he's not ready. He takes a few deep breaths before opening his eyes and looking around. It doesn't hit him like a flashback, like it's shown in the movies. It's more like something in the back of his mind that tells him about all the times he have been lazily stretched in the couch that's in the middle of the living room, watching the first crappy TV show he finds. Or how many times has he left the empty cereal bowl in the kitchen bar because he was running late from work. And how Iwaizumi always complains to himself the way the floor gets wet when he walks out of the shower naked, like it wasn’t his own fault.

Iwaizumi walks around, fingers grazing along the furniture and the walls. Everything feels familiar in a strange way, because he knows he has been there before, being domestic and spending his days from the last three years, but there are not solid memories of it. It's so frustrating, he thinks as he takes a sit on the couch.

Iwaizumi looks around again, noticing only then the few pictures hanging around in the walls. There's the one from his high school graduation, both of his parents standing next to him with proud smiles in their faces. There's one with his mom too, Iwaizumi tucked in a suit that looks expensive. And one with his dad, on the day of his college graduation.

But there's one close to that one that caught his attention, where the whole volleyball team from Seijō is in, with big and happy smiles on their faces. Iwaizumi smiles and walks to the framed photo, taking it in his hands. The memories from high school are fresh in his mind: a bunch of afternoons filled with practices and training, another few with the whole team going out for ice cream. The arm wrestles competitions, the practices games, the lunches they had together, the afternoons studying together with the third year ones. It all makes the feeling of longing growth in his chest. 

Iwaizumi looks at all the faces in detail, until he finds the one he’s looking for. Standing right next to Iwaizumi, with his fingers lifted in a peace sign and his characteristic wink, is Oikawa Tōru.

Hajime looks away from the picture when the constant ache in his chest gets hard to ignore. He doesn’t need to be a genius to know that, at some point, something must have happened between both of them. Maybe a fight, maybe they grew tired of each other. Or maybe it was just the adulthood, with all the work's schedule and the stress, that torn both of them apart. Whatever it was, Oikawa is no longer part of his life and the fact that nobody has mention him the past week, only confirms Iwaizumi's theories. He drops himself back in the couch, rubbing his nape with a tired sigh.

It’s an awful feeling, because seventeen-years-old Iwaizumi was completely and hopelessly in love with his childhood best friend, and right now, seventeen-years-old Iwaizumi is the only one in his mind. And even if he doesn’t remember a single thing about his present life, the fact that only thinking about Oikawa makes his heartbeat rise, gives Iwaizumi clues enough to make him realize that after all of this years, he probably still loves him the same.

—

“Have you been taking all your meds?”

Iwaizumi nods, "yes, mom, I have been taking them. All in time"

His mother seems pleased with the answer as she goes back to her coffee. It still feels weird to look at her. While his father looks like he has been stressing himself a lot lately, Iwaizumi’s mom looks as stunning as ever. The long, black hair that she used to have back when Iwaizumi was seventeen is now gone, replaced with a haircut at her shoulders’ height and dyed with a caramel brown tone. Iwaizumi likes it, because his mom looks full of vitality.

She told him a few things about this new life she's carrying at the Ehime prefecture, where his mom moved out two years ago. Iwaizumi is happy to know that she owns a little house and a good job, and that, after all that had happen, she was able to move on.

“Your coffee is going to get colder,” she smiles sweetly. “What’s going on?”

“ _Ah_ , I was just—um,” Iwaizumi rubs his nape. “Just thinking”

His mother lifts an eyebrow. “Thinking about something in particular? Have you remembered anything?”

“I have, yeah. But nothing, um— _life changing_. It’s just that, well—” Iwaizumi takes a deep breath, not so sure if he should ask about the topic. But he _needs_ to know. “Mom,” he calls finally, letting out a shaky sigh. “Where is Oikawa?”

Iwaizumi doesn't miss the way his mom flinches a little at the words, and how her face twists with surprise. She lets down the cup of coffee after taking a sip and sits straighten in the chair. "What is the last thing you remember about Tōru, Iwaizumi?"

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Just—being together? We were coming back home from school. The usual, I guess,” he clears his throat. “Well, the usual back then”

“Right,” his mom rubs her hands together, before taking Iwaizumi’s on her own. “Well, I don’t know where he is right now,” she finally says. “Haven’t known in a while, actually”

“So—so we are not friends anymore?”

His mom shrugs and smiles, apologetic. “The truth is that you never told me nor your father about what happened between both of you back then. Last time I saw Oikawa, he was helping you moving out. And then, he just kind of disappeared from your life.”

Iwaizumi nods and they both move on in the conversation, changing the topic. His mom is going back to Ehime tonight in a late flight due work, but she will visit Iwaizumi in two weeks. She made him promise her that he will be having the guest room in his apartment available for her. Hajime feels immediately sad when they hug one last time outside the café but he doesn’t say a word, flashing a big smile to his mom and kissing both of her cheeks.

The way back home is a mess. Iwaizumi is still not fully aware from where his apartment is located, so it takes a few minutes longer —and the help of the Google maps— to get there. It was hard to convince his dad to let him go back there all alone, but Iwaizumi needs some time to process all the information he has been collecting the last few days. And he's alone at his father's house too, anyways, since his dad is working most part of the day, so it wouldn’t really change much.

It feels way lonely this way, but in the back of his mind, Iwaizumi knows that that feeling has been with him for a long time.

—

“We’ve been waiting for _ages_ ,” is the first thing Sugawara says as soon as Iwaizumi turns in the hallway that leads to the entrance of his apartment. Daichi smiles a little bit apologetic, standing next to the gray haired man and carrying what looks like a supermarket bag. “Where were you? I thought you would be resting, like _I told you to_.”

Iwaizumi blinks, shifting his gaze between the two men. “I remembered that there’s a bakery two streets down,” he explains. "And I was craving something sweet."

“But it’s almost seven thirty, you can’t eat something sweet now,” Suga scolds him again. “Then you won’t be hungry for dinner and—”

“—and,” Daichi cuts in. “We should get inside before the neighbors start complaining about the noise.”

Hajime can’t stop the little smile that places in his lips as he sees Sugawara pout offended towards Daichi, who only gives him a fond smile in return. Iwaizumi didn’t ask about it, because he doesn't feel the need to do it. Somehow, the way Suga and Daichi act around each other says it all.

They get in the apartment and Iwaizumi is amazed for a second about how easily Sawamura walks towards the kitchen and starts putting every single thing from the supermarket bag in each correspondent place. _But he has been around here a lot probably_ , his brain reminds him. Right, he’s friends with Daichi. With both of them.

“Daichi says that this is a bad idea,” Suga says next to him. “But since _I_ am the doctor and not him, _I_ thought that it would be helpful for you to have a little—um, friendly meeting.”

"Little friendly meeting?"

"He invited a few people of our friend group to have dinner with us tonight," Daichi explains with his head stuck into the fridge. "I told him that it's probably going to overwhelm you, so we talk with them and said that we would ask you first. Right, Suga?"

Sugawara lets out a whiny _you’re annoying_ and walks to the kitchen, where they start to aggressively whisper to the other. Iwaizumi almost laughs at the way them both shake their arms in the air, gesturing towards the other, but his head is still processing what his friends said. A little friendly meeting. With the people that were— _are_ friends with him. Iwaizumi feels desperate for remember anything about his actual life. He wants this nightmare to just end. Maybe this would help, like Suga said. Maybe they can tell Iwaizumi things that can make him remember. Maybe they know something about—

“Tell them to come over,” the interrupts the conversation. “If it feels like too much, I will tell you”

—

It’s nothing like Iwaizumi has expected to be.

Well, he is not sure _what_ was he actually expecting. Maybe a group of young adults with the same interests of him and personalities similar to his own. But Iwaizumi was definitely not ready to open the front door to a group of just three persons. And he was definitely not ready to meet Wakatoshi Ushiwaka's eyes among them.

Hajime might not remember a single thing about his current life, but he's sure as hell that Ushiwaka and he can't be friends. Not at seventeen's, not now and not in a million of years. Iwaizumi remember perfectly that he used to _hate_ Wakatoshi back then. And it wasn't because the guy was somehow obsessed with Oikawa going to the same high school as him, of course not. Iwaizumi just didn't like his whole vibe of superiority that the guy used to show.

But now, Ushiwaka is smiling. A little, almost imperceptible smile, but it's there, and it's directed to Iwaizumi. He can't say that he isn’t shocked right now, but out of pure politeness, Iwaizumi smiles back at him.

And then, his face lights up when he spots Hanamaki smiling amused at him, “Makki,” he breathes out. “Shit, man. You look old”  

“Okay, first of all, fuck you,” Hanamaki smacks him in the arm before wrapping Iwaizumi in a tight hug. “Second, don’t you ever dare to scare the shit out of me like that again, you asshole.”

"What, are you going to tell me that you actually had worries for somebody besides you?" Iwaizumi teases.

"Nah," Makki smiles again. "It's just that you are the only one that has a mini-bar in the living-room."

Hajime laughs loud for the first time in what feels like years, patting Hanamaki back. "It's good to see you, Makki"

"Same here, man"

“Why is Hanamaki getting all the attention?” Somebody else complains. “I want to have attention too.”

 _Right, Matsukawa is here too_ , Iwaizumi thinks as his smile only grows in his face. The taller man smirks at him, before pulling Hajime in a half-hug, half choke-hold. “Good to have you back, Makki couldn't stop complaining about the mini-bar thing.”

“I hate you both so much,” Iwaizumi shoves them but the smile never leaves his face.

It feels a little awkward to look at Ushiwaka, especially because all of what Iwaizumi remembers right now is how much he detests this guy. But he tries really hard and smiles again, a little, letting the three of them get in the apartment.

Hajime is not sure if he should say something. He debates internally if it would be better to offer them a glass of water or something to eat, but Sugawara is ahead of him and steps out of the kitchen, greeting at the group with a big smile. It still feels really weird for him; the Aoba Johsai volleyball team never really liked the people from Karasuno. Not to mention those from Shiratorizawa, especially Ushiwaka. But Makki and Matsu seem to be fine around the taller man, chatting and laughing with Kōshi too, like they have known each other their whole life.

"Everything is fine?" Daichi talks next to him. "If it's too much, you know you can tell us."

"It's just—" Iwaizumi shifts on his feet. "It feels really weird. We used to hate each other back in high school and now—I don't know. It's weird but it still feels somehow—familiar. Really familiar"

"That's because even if the memory is not entirely there, your brain still remembers this kind of meetings”

“It’s an awful feeling,” Hajime sighs and Sawamura smiles at him, patting his back.

“It would end soon. We would help you with that”

It’s pretty awkward for the first half an hour, where the six of them gather around the living room with their plates of food, watching the repetition of some basketball game. Iwaizumi has been shifting his position constantly while he stuffs his mouth with food, because the feeling of discomfort doesn’t leave him. Until Matsukawa starts talking about high-school days, telling anecdotes about him, and soon everyone follows him. Iwaizumi feels how he's actually the only one tensed in the room and tries to relax.

Hanamaki is the first one that brings the subject of the volleyball teams of high-school. He talks about how, even if they keep playing with a lot of people from back then, it still doesn’t feel the same, and how much he misses the old days. Iwaizumi nods at that, because he misses too. Somehow, his chest hurts whenever he thinks about high-school days, so he actually doesn't need his memories to know that he misses it.   

When Daichi's turn comes, he starts talking about being the captain of Karasuno. Iwaizumi can see the sad smile on his face as he tells them about the training and how they all used to gather outside Coach Ukai's store to eat and play videogames. That makes Iwaizumi’s heart ache a little, because he remembers how much it used to scare him to think of let it all go. _But this is life_ , he recalls his father telling him a few years ago, _you grow; you leave it all behind and just keep going, because you can’t be in high-school forever_.

“Where’s everyone now?” Hajime can't stop the words then and everyone turns to look at him. “How’s, um—how’s everyone doing?”

Suga clears his throat. “You mean the _Seijō team?”_

“No, just everyone in general,” he rubs his neck. “Like, Kageyama and that shrimp, and that redhead of your team,” Iwaizumi points at Ushiwaka, before turning to look at Matsu and Makki. “And how is—how is our whole team.”

Iwaizumi can see how they share a look between each other, before looking directly at Sugawara. They’re probably trying to ask him if it’s a good idea to tell Iwaizumi about present things, if that's not going to be too much for his brain. “He asked about it, it’s fine.” Suga shrugs then. "About Kageyama and Hinata, they kept playing volleyball after high-school. They're on the national team now. Nishinoya too"

“The national team? Like—like they’re representing Japan right now?”

Daichi laughs. “This big guy is part of the team too,” he says, patting Ushiwaka's back. “They always put on a good show.”

Iwaizumi looks at the taller man a little startled but of course he's on the national team. Back in high-school, on their third year, Ushiwaka was the N° 1 star of the Miyagi prefecture with his 6' 2.6" tall and his powerful left-handed spikes (Iwaizumi still remembers how powerless he felt in the last match they played against Shiratorizawa). And he was also one of the few players selected to participate in the Youth World Championship as Japan's U-19 representative, so it was just matter of time for him to be in the national team.

“That’s—that’s amazing, man,” he clears his throat. “I mean, I probably said this already but congratulations. It’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” Ushiwaka says and Iwaizumi thinks that those were the first words the man said in the whole night. “Even though I still don't understand why you didn't take the opportunity to join us, I appreciate that you keep supporting the team."

The whole room goes silent, except for the match reporter still talking on the TV. Iwaizumi is shocked, not only for Wakatoshi's words but also for the memory of him thanking coach Mizoguchi but declining the offer of going professional on volleyball. He remembers clearly how his coach looked completely startled at his words and how he tried insisting, but Iwaizumi had made his decision already. Nevertheless, that’s not what gets him in shock but the fact that right next to him was standing Oikawa, giving Iwaizumi the most hurtful look he has ever seen.

“I apologize,” Ushiwaka says then. “That was completely unnecessary for me to say and—”

“—no, it’s—it’s fine. Don’t worry, I’m just going to—” he points towards the small hallway. “I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

Once Iwaizumi comes back, nobody mentions the subject again and they all move on in the conversation like nothing happened. He appreciates it in a certain way, and even though he would like to ask a few more questions, Iwaizumi still feels really shy around them. Even around Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

The group leaves around two a.m., after Sugawara makes sure Iwaizumi has taken all of his meds of the day. It really annoys him being babied, but Suga's intentions are the best ones, so Iwaizumi doesn't complain about it. Half an hour later, when he’s lying on the bed of a room that looks _so him_ but feels completely strange at the same time, Iwaizumi can’t stop thinking why the hell he would let go such a he opportunity like that one. He has a vague idea of why Oikawa seemed to be so mad at him.

It takes a few long hours for Iwaizumi to finally fall asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot for reading. I will post the second part pretty soon!


	2. When you dream of me tonight, am I close to where you are?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter is here!  
> Once again, huge thanks to @nightshade002 on tumblr for beta-read this, you're amazing!  
> Hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think of it ^^  
> 

[ _There’s no time for breakfast, great._

Iwaizumi rushes down stairs with his briefcase under his left arm, almost tripping over his own feet on the last stretch. His car’s alarm echoes across the parking lot of the building when he deactivates it. Iwaizumi gets in the car, throws his briefcase in the back seat and secures the seat belt before leaving the parking lot.

Usually, it doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get to the company in his usual path, but he has less than ten to make it. And of course Sawamura wouldn't scold him for being five minutes late, but Iwaizumi hates tardiness. That’s why he takes the shorter way, driving through the secondary streets of the city, the ones without all the traffic lights.

_I guess that a tasteless coffee from the machine is better than nothing,_ he thinks with a tired sigh, ruffling his hair with one hand. _Maybe I can get there with a few minutes to go to the cafeteria and_ — _what the hell is this idiot doing._

Iwaizumi honks once, two times. “Hey!” he shouts at the car driver. “What the hell do you think—”, the honk sounds a third time. Iwaizumi’s eyes widen. _Fuck._ ]

Iwaizumi wakes up covered in cold sweat. There's a constant, stinging pain on the left side of his head. He stumbles out of the bed, trying to focus his eyes through the dark of the room and the dizziness dancing in his mind, until he reaches to the knob of the bathroom door. Iwaizumi falls on his knees in front of the toilet and empties the content of his stomach.

Iwaizumi thinks he can smell the stench of blood and panics for a moment, touching his face to see if there’s any wound that could be bleeding, only to realize that is all in his head. It’s only his mind, repeating every little thing from the accident again. The hard pull from the seat belt against his torso and his neck, the smell of fresh blood in the air, mixed with burning smell, and the feeling of a shiver running down his left leg. Iwaizumi remembers hearing the sound of an ambulance siren in the distance —or maybe it was a police car—, along with people screaming. He couldn’t recognize what they were saying, though, his mind felt completely dizzy at the moment. And then, seconds later, everything was swallowed by the dark.  

So that was what happened; somebody fell asleep at the steering wheel and hit Iwaizumi’s car from the front. 

It takes a few tries for him to finally stand up, still feeling a little dazed. After brushing his teeth, Iwaizumi drags his feet to the kitchen and starts making coffee. It's probably not the best option for a breakfast—and probably Suga would get mad at him, since Iwaizumi can't take the painkillers with an empty stomach. But honestly, he can’t care less now.

—

A new week comes and goes pretty fast. Iwaizumi has been remembering more and more things as days go by, mostly about work. That’s why he calls Daichi on Sunday night and asks if it would be okay to go to the office ("It's actually a building") on Monday, just to look around. Daichi agrees immediately, assuring him that he will personally give Iwaizumi a small tour around.

It happens the same as when Iwaizumi came back to his own apartment after the accident: the familiar feeling in his chest when he walks through the building doors, telling him that he was there before even if his brain does not remember.

There is small lobby that has a desk in the middle, where a blonde girl (woman?) is sitting. She smiles brightly at Daichi and nods at Iwaizumi, saying a happy “it’s good to see you again, Iwaizumi-san” when they pass her to walk to the elevators.  

“That’s Yachi Hitoka,” Daichi introduces as they walk into the elevator. “You might not remember her now, but you two have a really good relationship.”

Iwaizumi nods shortly. “She seems nice”

“She is,” the elevator doors close and Daichi presses two buttons before speaking again. “I’m not sure if you remember, but the first day you came to the company, you got stuck in the elevator along with Kindaichi. Yachi was the one that got both of you out of there."

“I remember about the elevator accident,” Iwaizumi admits. “But just the part where, you know, it broke."

“Well, you were _furious_ and Kindaichi almost panicked because he thought that you might make an scene, because he was the one that recommended you for the job and, you know, it wouldn’t cause a good impression,” Daichi gestures. “But then, the elevator’s door open and the first thing you see is this little, blonde woman that's literally _shaking_ and almost crying because you look like you’re about to murder someone. And then she just breaks to mourn,” he laughs at Iwaizumi’s red cheeks. “You tried to apologize for a whole week. And I don’t know much about your relationship with her, but at some point it seemed like you two just clicked with each other.”

“But we’re just, um—just friends, right?” Iwaizumi asks a little shy. “Like, there’s nothing going on between us that I should know about or—”

Daichi snorts. “Please tell me that the accident didn’t make you heterosexual out of the blue.”

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi looks away, feeling his cheeks burn. “I have been thinking about asking, but I didn't know how to bring up the subject. I don't remember if I ever told you about it."

“Well, when we found each other at university for the first time, you were dating someone,” Daichi tells him. “Of course you didn’t tell me right away. I think it took you around two or three weeks, but you ended up introducing me to your boyfriend a few days later after you met Suga. I guess meting my boyfriend made you trust me.”

“So you two are actually dating.”

Daichi lets out a deep sigh and smiles. The same smile he putted when he was talking about Karasuno and the high-school days. “We _were_ dating, yeah. But things got a little out of hand, so we’re taking—a break? I guess. I don’t even know how to call it.”

Iwaizumi’s mouth drops open. “I’m—I’m sorry, Sawamura. I didn’t—I shouldn’t have asked about it. It is none of my business.”

“It’s okay, Iwaizumi. Relax a little,” Daichi pats him in the back. “It’s not like it's recent, but I guess I still miss him a lot. I was used to having him next to me all the time and now I come back to an empty home and it’s—yeah.”

Iwaizumi ducks his head. “I know how it feels, yeah.”

“Let’s stop with this whole emo-vibe,” Daichi smiles as he steps out of the elevator. "Okay, so, summarizing the whole thing: first and second floor are on charge of the Sales department. Production department is divided on third and four," he points as they walk through a small hallway. "Marketing has three floors: Public Relations department, which is on the fifth floor; and Product Services, on the sixth one. And then," Daichi gestures between both of them. “We are in charge of the revision of every project and a few more things that I will explain to you later, here on the seventh floor. Eighth is taken for the executive secretary and the CEO, and in the ninth is the President’s office but he isn’t usually around here.”

Hajime nods as they entered into what —he assumes— is Sawamura’s office. It looks nice, clean and spacious, and Iwaizumi vaguely wonders if his office is anything like this one because he really likes it.

“I have a few things to check on,” Daichi says, as he pulls out a few folders from the drawer on his desk. “You can stay and take a look, if you want to. It might help your memory.”

Iwaizumi nods, "that would be great, yeah."

He pays close attention to everything Daichi points out. Iwaizumi is pleasantly surprised that he actually remembers most of the procedures and formulas that are used on the papers. It feels familiar, and he likes it. Nevertheless, even if he tries really hard to keep his mind busy, the thoughts about Daichi and Suga not being together anymore but still manage to keep being so familiar around each other, keep echoing in his head. Iwaizumi wonders if after all this time, it would be the same if he meets Oikawa.

—

“So,” Sugawara closes the door behind him and sits in front of Iwaizumi, across the desk. “How are you feeling?”

"Like, physically?" Suga nods at Iwaizumi's question. "I'm fine, I guess. A few headaches but everything else is pretty, um—fine."

"Well, you look better indeed," the doctor compliments as he writes down Iwaizumi's medical files. "How about your memory? Any progress about it?"

“I remembered the accident,” Iwaizumi tells him and Suga nods as he writes on the medical records. “And a few more things, but besides that nothing—important, I guess."

At those words, Sugawara lifts his head to look at him. Iwaizumi is not sure if he said something bad or if Suga is looking at him like that just because it's been almost three weeks after the accident and Iwaizumi still doesn't remember anything— _consistent_.  

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why you say you don't remember anything important?” Sugawara reformulates. “Like, you say that because you don't remember, um— how to do your work, for example? Or maybe how to cook, or how to do some domestic activities.”

"No, it's not—" Iwaizumi shakes his head. "I do remember most of that, actually. I mean, how do to most of my usual work, I think. And about the cooking thing, it's just like it's impressed in my mind so that's not really—it."

The doctor lifts an eyebrow, looking confused. " _It?_ "

"Yeah. I guess I feel like there are more important things I need to know, like—" he shakes his head slightly and looks at his own hands. "Like I don't even remember my high school graduation, right? But I do remember having lunch with a few classmates after a test on a random university day." 

"That must be because you experimented something that somehow acted like a detonator for that memory," Suga explains, writing again on Iwaizumi's files. "Maybe you ate the same thing, or smelled something that reminds you of that place."

“So it’s going to be random stuff like those until I get all my memories back?”

“Iwaizumi," the young doctor lets the pen on the table and looks at him. "I told you that it’s pretty common for patients like you to have this kind of post-traumatic amnesia," he recalls. "And I also said that even if it’s probably that you get your memory back, it’s not a certainty that you would get all of your memories again.”

“I know. I know that. It’s just—it’s really frustrating," Iwaizumi confesses then. "I know I am remembering things bit by bit, but having all this—mental gaps where I don’t know what happened is just frustrating. Really, really frustrating.”

“I can imagine how hard it is," Suga smiles warmly. "But we told you we would help you.”

“I know”

“And we have been friends for about—hm, four years, I think?" he leans back against his chair. "So I know you’re in that shy mode of yours, like you were back then when Daichi introduced us. I know you don’t remember it, but we _are_ your friends," Sugawara emphasizes. "You can ask whatever you want, Hajime, we’re here to help you.”

Iwaizumi gulps and looks away from the doctor. The truth is that he doesn’t have any doubt about Suga’s words, he has remembered a few random moments of the whole group hanging out or clubbing. Still, Iwaizumi is not sure about wanting to share his feelings with them. He was never really open about the feeling and the fears and the insecurities that he used to have back in high-school. Not with his teammates, not with his closest friends, not even with—

“Okay, by the look on your face you _do_ want to ask something,” Sugawara calls his attention. “What is it?”

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath. “Well, um—I asked my mom about this already, but she—she said I never told her about it. I just want to know—” he rubs his hands together, looking anywhere but Suga’s eyes. “I just wanted to ask where Oikawa is. Why isn’t he—well, _here_?”

Sugawara is shocked for a moment. “Oh,” he says then, surprise filling his voice before the doctor clears his throat. “Well, to be honest, it was really strange when Daichi introduced us and Oikawa wasn't glued to your side,” he smiles. “But the truth is that I don’t know. You never told me—or Daichi. All we know—well, all you told us about it, is that since you both were going to different universities, you just lost contact. But between us,” Suga swings his finger between them, pointing. “I never believed you.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t say a word. He feels like his mind is going a mile a minute, searching for something that he doesn’t even know what is it. It’s not a surprise that Sugawara —or nobody, apparently— knows about what happened between Oikawa and he, actually.  

“I know I’m not being really helpful,” the doctor tries to fill the dense silence. “Maybe you can ask Matsu or Makki about it.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi nods. “I should ask them about it.”

“Or—” Sugawara says and Iwaizumi doesn’t miss the way his voice sounds a little insecure, like he knows it’s a bad idea what he’s about to say. “You can search it yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well," the gray-haired man sighs. "I don’t think Ushiwaka has said anything about your accident because you know—well, you _don’t_ remember but you _do_ know that he’s not somebody that goes around rambling about people's life," he rolls his eyes.  "What I mean is that I don’t think Oikawa has heard of your accident yet. So maybe you could try to contact him and ask him about it. Tell him about the accident and about how you don’t remember what happened.”

“What the hell does Ushiwaka has to do with all of this?”

“Oh," Suga blinks twice. "Right, sorry. Oikawa is part of the national team too. He and Ushiwaka share an apartment in Tokyo, along with another teammate.” 

—

[“So," Oikawa clears his throat. "I decided that I will apply for Nittaidai."

“That one is in Tokyo, right?”

“Mhm," Oikawa hums happily, going back and forth in the swing. Iwaizumi is sitting in one as well, but without actually moving. "What about you, Iwa-chan? Did you already decide to which university will you apply?"

Iwaizumi looks at the ground because he can’t stand to look at Oikawa. The conversation he had with Matsu earlier is making Iwaizumi’s mind a complete mess ("C'mon, Iwaizumi, it's Oikawa we're talking about here," Matsukawa bumps his shoulder against Iwaizumi's. "Are you even aware of the way he looks at you? He looks so fucking enamored that it makes me want to puke").

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whines. “What are you thinking about? You have been spacing out a lot lately.”

“Shut up, I’m not spacing out”

“Oh,” Oikawa lets out a small yelp, that smirk that Iwaizumi hates loves placed on his lips while he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Perhaps, are you thinking in someone, Iwa-chan?”

_Yeah, I’m thinking about you. Every single hour of the day._

“I am _not_ , Shittykawa,” he makes a small pause. “I haven’t decided yet, but—” a deep sigh. “But Nittaidai has really good reputation. Maybe I’ll check it out later.”

On the corner of his eyes, Iwaizumi sees the bright smile Oikawa is trying to hide by ducking his head.]

Iwaizumi stares at the ceiling of his room as the memory repeats in his head. One of his hands is clenched around the fabric of his shirt, right on top of his chest where his heartbeat is raising at the single thought of Oikawa. Only when the grip of his other hand tightens around his phone and pressed a button that makes the screen light-up, Iwaizumi notices that the device is there.

Since his old phone was crushed at the accident, Iwaizumi’s father got him a new one the day after he left the hospital. Besides his parents, Sugawara and Daichi were the only contacts on his phone until that afternoon, when Suga gave him Ushiwaka’s number. Iwaizumi opens the list of contacts, the five numbers alphabetically ordered on a single page. Ushiwaka is the last one. Iwaizumi presses the call button next to it without really thinking about it.

It rings once, twice and there's a small click after the third time, before a harsh voice mumbles: "Who is it?"

Iwaizumi frowns confused and looks at the screen. 2:09 a.m. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he mumbles as he sits on the bed. “I didn’t see what time it was and—”

“Who are you?” the person on the other side cuts off, sounded irritated. “This is Ushiwaka’s personal number, how did you get it?”

“I’m Iwaizumi," he says after a pause. "Iwaizumi Hajime.” 

The line goes silent for a long moment, and then: “Sorry, I don’t know who you are so I’m going to hang up now.”

"No, wait, I'm— _hello?_ "

Iwaizumi stares at the phone, the announcement of the ended call showing in bright red letters on the screen. He sighs deeply and falls backwards into the mattress again. Maybe he shouldn’t have called at this hour; it was a complete waste of time. Then, an idea comes into his mind and Iwaizumi feels like an idiot for not realizing before how easy it would be to just search it.

He leaves the bed, the covers piled up at the end of the mattress in a messy way almost making him fall into his face. Cursing under his breath, he walks towards the kitchen for a glass of water, before coming back to the room. Iwaizumi sets down on the bed again and unlocks his phone, before writing Oikawa Tōru on the searcher.

Iwaizumi feels like all the air has been knocked out of his lungs when he sees Oikawa’s face in the first picture that appears of him. His heart is beating like crazy and he has to look away, feeling his cheeks burn like he has been caught watching something he shouldn't. He clicks on the first link ( _get to know Oikawa Tōru, the 23-years-old player that got Japan into the Olympics_ ) and reads the whole article in detail, before moving into the next one ( _Oikawa Tōru and Kageyama Tobio, the promises of the volleyball_ ). Iwaizumi doesn’t realize the moment he falls asleep, with the sun shining bright in the sky.   

—

Iwaizumi groans in his sleep, shifting his position with the intention of falling asleep again. Nevertheless, there's something bothering him, moving—vibrating? right next to his head. Iwaizumi snaps his eyes open, blinking to get used to the sunlight entering through the window. His phone is in front of his nose, an _incoming call from Ushijima_ in the screen.

He clears his throat, but his voice still comes out hoarse. “Yeah?”

"Iwaizumi," is heard on the other side. "I woke up and find that apparently I answered a call from you yesterday. I must have done it while I was sleeping."

"No, you didn’t—" Iwaizumi sits on the bed and rubs his face. "You didn't answer. Someone else did it."

"Someone else, you said?"

"Yeah. They said this is your personal number and asked where I got it."

There's a pause, but Iwaizumi hears a few muffled whispers. "Sorry, it's just that one of my roommates has the awful habit of sneaking on other's people business,” Ushiwaka says a little too loud before a ‘ _fuck off’_ is heard in the background. “Excuse me for no asking before, but did something happen? You called pretty late.”

“Ah, no, don’t worry. It’s just—” Iwaizumi sighs deep. “I don’t even know.”

Ushiwaka hums. “Did you, by any chance, remember something?”

Iwaizumi doesn't answer right away. He’s not sure how close Ushijima and he are actually, but the other’s one voice tone gives Hajime a clue that at least Ushiwaka seems to be concern about him. So he takes two deep breathes and counts to three, before saying: "I remembered something about Oikawa, and I—Sugawara told me that you two live together and—I don’t know. I just thought that I could talk to him and—"

“He’s not here,” Ushijima cuts him off softly. “He went back to Miyagi two days ago to visit his family.”

"Oh. Right," he bites his lower lip. "How is he doing? He's not overworking himself, right?"

"Listen, Iwaizumi," Ushijima says then. "We've been friends for a few years and I really appreciate your friendship, as much as I appreciate Oikawa's one. That's why I'm going to take a risk right now and send you Oikawa's contact information, so you can— _hey_ , stop that!" Iwaizumi blinks confused, hearing a ‘ _you stop, he’s going to kill you’_ in the background. "I'm sorry, Iwaizumi, I'm going to contact you later, " the call ends then and Iwaizumi stares as his phone blankly, trying to figure out what the hell just happen.

—

Iwaizumi waits for a call or a text the whole day, but nothing comes in until two days later. He’s in the office with Sawamura, looking around and trying to catch on everything like he has been doing for the past week, when his phone rings. He jolts a little, reaching for the device.

“Is it your mom again?” Daichi asks with a playful smile. “Tell her I say hi.”

“No, it’s an unknown number,” Iwaizumi frowns. “It just says my name, what the hell?”

“Here,” Sawamura extends his hand. “Let me check if I know the number.”

Hajime hands him the phone without much question, looking expectantly as Daichi scrolls through his phone. "I knew it looked familiar," he smiles. "It's Kuroo."

“Who?”

“Right, sorry,” he smiles apologetic. “Kuroo Tetsurō. He’s a friend of mine, but you know him too. We play on the weekends when he’s not too busy with the National team.”

“Are we friends with the entire Japan team?” Iwaizumi rhetorically asks. “So, I know him. Does he know about the accident and all of this?"

Daichi nods. "Ushijima told Suga the other day that he had to tell Kuroo about it because he _sensed_ that something was going on. Kuroo always does that, it's so annoying," he shakes his head.

Iwaizumi smirks at him. "Seems like you two are really good friends."

"Well, Karasuno and Nekoma—the team were he was in high-school, always had this kind of rivalry, so we ended up seeing each other a lot due all the practice matches that we had. I guess it was a matter of time for us to become friends."

"What about us?" he asks. "We are friends too, right?"

Daichi rubs his nape. "Well, you two are not the closest friends, but it's not like you _hate_ each other."

"We don't get along?"

"Actually, you did get along before,” Daichi nods. "I think you met him in the first year of university. We went out and he happened to be there so we just join in one table." he tells Iwaizumi, rubbing his chin while he thinks. "You two got along pretty well that night, but then Kuroo found out what happened between you and Oikawa and now he kind of thinks you’re a jerk."

The phone rings again, announcing a new message. Daichi extends the device to Iwaizumi, but he doesn't move a single muscle to try and reach it. "So you—so you know? You know what happened between me and Oikawa?"

"Oh," Sawamura leans back in his chair. "I thought you remembered about that, it happened when you were in high-school and—shit, _right_. You were eighteen already, weren’t you?"

"Suga said that you didn't know about it,” Iwaizumi frowns. “Neither did him."

Daichi sighs. "Truth is that Suga never liked Kuroo since he was always too touchy with friends, and that included me. So I usually wouldn't tell Sugawara about every time I met Kuroo, since he always said that he didn't care," Sawamura explains. "But it's not like I know a lot about it anyways. Kuroo just told me that you two fought a few days before graduation, and said a few, um—things that weren’t cool to say, and then just stopped talking to each other. He thinks you're a jerk because apparently you were the one that started the fight."

Iwaizumi leans back in the chair, looking away. The hopes that maybe if somebody tells him about what happened would make everything come back to his mind slowly fading away. He’s blank; he can’t remember a single thing, just the ache in his chest that seems to never go away every time a thought of Oikawa pops in his mind.

“Maybe you should talk to Kuroo,” Daichi says cautious. “I'm sure he didn't text you just to see how you are dealing with all of this.”

Iwaizumi nods absently. “I will talk to him later.”

He goes back to read the papers in front of him and Sawamura doesn't press into the subject. Both of them are perfectly aware that Iwaizumi's mind is anywhere but there.

—

Iwaizumi feels really uncomfortable but he doesn’t show it, keeping the eye contact with a blank expression. Kuroo is the one who finally breaks it, sighing deeply before leaning back in the chair. “So you actually don’t know what happened with Oikawa?”

“I probably know,” he answers as he mixes the cream on his coffee. “But I don’t remember about it.”

Iwaizumi did talk to Kuroo once he got back home, like he promised to Daichi after leaving the company. It felt weird and uncomfortable, mainly because Kuroo was sharp and didn't talk much, but he made it very clear that he wanted to talk to Iwaizumi right away, face to face, so he didn't have other choice but to agree to a meet up.

"I guess that you're telling me the truth, then," he says, with his arms crossed. “I just want to you why do you want to contact him now.”

“Because I want to know what happened, I want—” he sighs. “I want to know if he’s fine, if he’s not overworking himself again and—”

“He’s perfectly fine,” Kuroo interrupts. “Great, actually”

Iwaizumi tightens his jaw, “I want to see it for myself.”

Kuroo smirks. “And why do you think you have the right to come and demand to see him, after six damn years without even worrying about how he was?” he says in a dry tone. “I think you’re really wrong in this one, Iwaizumi-san. You had your chance and you didn’t take it. Oikawa is fine now, without you. He had to move on because you couldn’t put your shit together, so leave him alone and move on by yourself.”

Hajime feels how his heartbeat is raising, anger filling every single vein in his body because _who the hell does this idiot think he is, Oikawa is my_ — “Oikawa is my best friend,” he says firmly. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, we have always been around each other because we just—he needs me. He always did. And I need him too.”

“Let me correct you there,” Kuroo smirks. “Tōru _was_ your best friend. He _used_ to need you. But that is the past, Iwaizumi. Trust me when I tell you that he’s doing great by his own now.”

“Who the hell do you think you’re to say that?” Iwaizumi finally snaps. “You don’t know him.”

Kuroo lifts an eyebrow, defiant. “I’ve been living with Oikawa for the past six years. We’ve been roommates since the first year in college,” and then he leans in the table, smiling in a feline way, before saying: “and I think it would be okay for me to say that I know him better than anyone.”

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath but doesn't break the eye contact. He wants nothing more than to punch this guy in the face, but no matter how tempting it sounds, that wouldn’t be correct. "Okay," he nods. "I get that I hurt him, probably a lot. But Oikawa was always my priority, and he was—he was the only person that mattered to me," Iwaizumi says, looking away at the sudden shyness that wash over him. "Truth is that I had my life completely planned with him back when we were in high-school. Go to the same college, live together and maybe someday, we would get—"

"Get, what?"

"Forget I said that. I'm just talking nonsenses," Iwaizumi sighs. "I understand that you're worried about him, but I would never hurt Oikawa intentionally, and I—"

"You did it, already," Tetsurō cuts him off. "You fucked him up back then, but I'm here right now and I won't let you do that again, Iwaizumi. I'm pretty sure that even if you don't remember a few things, you know how much Oikawa deserves to be happy."

“I know that,” he nods. “That’s why I want to fix things. I don’t know what I did back then—”

“You," Kuroo says, cutting him off again. "—rejected him.”

Iwaizumi blinks twice, before frowning. “What?”

“You heard me,” Kuroo says, crossing his arms again. “He confessed to you, after the graduation. And you rejected him.”

“No, I—” he shakes his head, disconcerted. “That’s impossible. I—no, why the fuck—why the hell would I reject him?” he frowns. “You have to be lying. I wouldn’t reject him, not in a million years.”

“I don’t know why you did it,” he shrugs. “But Oikawa had it really bad after that. You just stopped answering his texts and calls. You broke his heart and leave him alone, so excuse me for not believing a single thing you say now, Iwaizumi. I don’t care if you’re a good guy like everyone else says. They weren't there for him like I was. They didn't have to see how broken Oikawa was. They weren't there to see how hard it was for him to act like everything was fine just to come back to the room and cry his heart out."

Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything, just looking down at his hands. His mind runs a mile a minute, showing him scenarios of Oikawa crying, probably wrapped on his favorite blanket. Oikawa without Iwaizumi around to tell him how ugly he probably looked, before giving him a hug and promise that everything would pass, everything would be better.

There’s a growing ache in his chest, Iwaizumi’s hand clenching around the fabric of his shirt. Tetsurō doesn’t say a thing when the first tear rolls down his left cheek and into the table, soon followed by another one. He doesn’t say anything when Iwaizumi shuts his eyes and lets out a sob, crying silently because of how stupid and powerless he feels right now.

“I can’t tell you more than this. This is all I know, all Oikawa ever said to me,” Kuroo says then. “I don’t have a clue why you did what you did, or why you let him go like that. Knowing Oikawa, it was a really stupid thing to do because you’re never going to found someone like him again. And personally, I can’t even consider that you deserve a second chance. But,” he takes a small pause to sigh. “If Oikawa wants to fix things with you, forgive you or whatever the hell his heart tells him to do, I'll support him as his best friend. I'm not going to stop him, because he's a grown-ass-man who can take responsibility for his own actions,” Tetsurō says as he stands up from the chair and puts on his jacket. “But if you even think of hurting him like you did, I'll personally beat you up until you can't even tell what your name is."

Iwaizumi doesn’t say a thing as Kuroo leaves the café.

—

Daichi and Suga's "break up" comes to his mind in vivid memories on a late night on Wednesday, while he’s searching for some random game to watch at the TV. Iwaizumi is shocked for a moment, gasping twice for air as he recalls Daichi coming to his apartment one night, completely drenched by the rain.

"I think Suga is going to break up with me," were his greeting words. "I—I think he's—he's going to leave me."

Iwaizumi made him get into the shower instantly, assuring Sawamura that he could take all the time he want while Iwaizumi cooked something for them. Almost an hour later, while they were eating, Daichi finally spoke. He summarized it: they had a fight, the second one that week and Daichi left to go to work. When he came back, there was a note from Sugawara saying that he would stay over his parent’s house for a few days, to clear his mind.

Four nights later, Iwaizumi opened his front door to an even-worse-looking Daichi. He didn’t say a word, just walked into Hajime’s living room, opened his mini-fridge and gulped down half bottle of cheap beer. Sawamura didn't say a single thing that night and Iwaizumi didn't ask about it.

Sugawara send him a text the next day, asking Iwaizumi to take care of Daichi, and to be a good friend for him. And then, a few days later, Daichi finally opened himself and told Iwaizumi that Suga and he were going to take a break from their relationship, for the sake of them both.

Iwaizumi didn’t get it—he still doesn’t. His whole life (the part he remembers) was guided but the thought of never give up on something you want, or in someone you love, in this case. He smiles sadly and shakes his head. _You’re the last person who should say that, genius._

Iwaizumi wonders what could've happen if only he had followed that thought back then. He would probably have Oikawa by his side right now.  What an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I'll try to update the next part soon.   
> Have a nice day, everyone!


	3. And when the night time's calling and the rain starts falling, will you still remember my name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third part is here! Hope you like this one!   
> As always, thanks a lot to @nightshadearcher for helping me so much with this!

When Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s day off finally matches, they drag Iwaizumi out on a friend’s night. He complains all the way because _it’s fucking Monday, why would you want to get wasted on a Monday._ But of course his friends pay no attention to Iwaizumi’s words—they never did. And that's the story of how they ended up in some shitty bar with half of their group of friends.

Iwaizumi is not drunk, but he’s feeling a bit tipsy around 1 a.m. with his third bottle of Awamori. He remembers back in high-school how he and his teammates would getter in someone’s house after getting a bottle or two of Awamori. It usually made them get completely wasted. It seems that years later, Iwaizumi is better at holding alcohol.

“They made it—oh, shit,” Hanamaki curses when he wiggles both arms in the air and almost spills his drink. “Guys, we’re over here!”

Hajime lifts his head, feeling curious about who Makki is calling to. It doesn’t take much time for him to find it out: he spots Ushijima right away, since it's impossible for him to go unnoticed with all of his six and a half feet of height. His serious expression doesn't help either, nor the fact that there's a little orange head next to him drawing attention in the darkness of the bar. 

"Look at Iwaizumi's expression," Matsukawa laughs loud next to him. "Ah, I bet we looked the same when we first saw Wakatoshi in a bar."

Iwaizumi looks away, feeling the blush creeping up into his cheeks. “Shut up.”

He can't say he's not surprised, because Iwaizumi never thought that Ushijima Wakatoshi would be a clubbing guy. So it sure is a surprise to see him so... open and comfortable in a place like this. Not to mention the fact that Hinata Shōyō is next to him and the last thing Iwaizumi remembers about them together is how both of them were fighting for the last point in a volleyball court, like six years ago.

Only when they approach the table a little bit more, Iwaizumi catches the sights of a third person behind them both. Kageyama Tobio, looking as serious as always, glances around the place, but never loses sight of any movements that Hinata makes. Iwaizumi wonders if after all of those years of playing together, Tobio developed the habit of follow him unconsciously.

“Iwaizumi-san,” Hinata is the first one that spots him. “You’re here!”

 “Ah,” Iwaizumi nods, smiling the best he can. “Yeah, I’m—yeah.”

“I told you he would come, see?” the shorter man turns around to face Kageyama. “Didn’t I?”

Kageyama gives him a smile—a genuine, happy smile and slightly pats Hinata’s hair, nodding in agreement. Iwaizumi looks at Ushijima just then, knowing that his face must express the shock he’s feeling right now. “It’s nice to see that your state is progressing well, Iwaizumi,” he says as greeting. “I guess you remember Hinata Shōyō and Kageyama Tobio from high-school matches.”

"I do," he nods. "It's good to see you two. I'm happy that everything is going fine for you."

"It's good to see you too, Iwaizumi-san," Kageyama says without trail of the smile his lips had on seconds ago. Then, he bows a little before saying: "I'm sorry about the accident. I'd—we would have gone to see you before but we just heard about it two days ago."

"It's true," Hinata chirps in. "Wakatoshi-san is really good in hiding things. If it weren't for Suga-san, we wouldn't even know about it."

“Take a seat, take a seat,” Hanamaki says then, moving to stand up. “I’m going to see where everyone is.”

Ushijima lifts his hands in apologize sign. “I’m sorry but I should look for Ōhira first. Go ahead, I would join you soon.”

It’s kind of awkward when the duo sits next to Iwaizumi, who’s the only one sitting in there, since he turned down every invitation of the group to go and _shake his hips_ a little. Iwaizumi might not remember it, but he didn't believe for a second when Hanamaki and Matsukawa tried to convince him that he's some kind of dance god.

"So is it true that you don't remember a few things?" Hinata calls his attention.

"A few _years_ , I would say,” Iwaizumi tries to joke about it. “But I'm slowly getting everything into place."

"Shrimpy!"

"Matsu-senpai!” the orange-haired man waves effusively in direction of the bar. “Kageyama-kun, I will go say hi to the rest of the group, and then I'll go get us some drinks,” he says quickly, passing in front of Tobio to get out of the table. “Be right back!"

Iwaizumi gulps down another sip of his drink and looks around, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He can feel the movement Kageyama makes while he bounces his leg repetitively under the table. "I can see he is still really effusive, uh?" Iwaizumi clears his throat. "Hasn't changed that much."

"None of us have changed much," the younger says quickly, looking away. "I guess now we just—get along with other people too."

"Kind of difficult not to get along when we all like volleyball, I guess."

"Well, yeah," Kageyama nods and looks at him. "I guess that if it weren't for the volleyball club, I would have never met any of my senpais," he shrugs, before muttering: "nor Hinata."

Hajime takes another sip. "He's really special to you, right?"

"He makes me a better person," the younger man says without hesitation. "Without Hinata—I would probably still be the asshole I was back in middle-school." 

Iwaizumi hums and nods, but doesn’t say anything. It’s amazing to him seeing how much Kageyama has changed since the last time he remembers they talked. Iwaizumi is pleasantly surprised of how far the younger man has got by just listening to the right people. Something makes him feel nostalgic when the memories of the old days come into his mind—those days when Oikawa would find every possible opportunity to put up a fight with Tobio.

Hajime wonders if these days are still the same, if the both of them still don't get along. He wonders how Oikawa did to keep going all of these years with both Kageyama and Ushijima in the same team. Iwaizumi wonders if he had made a scene about it, or just took the challenge of put his new team together. Because if there’s one thing Iwaizumi doesn’t have a doubt about, is that even if Oikawa is not the official captain of the team —Ushijima has the position for _obvious reasons_ according to a few magazines—, he still is the one that puts every piece into place.

“Iwaizumi-san,” Kageyama calls suddenly, a little too loud. “I’d a talk with Sugawara-san. He told me that it would help if people tell you about stuff, so I want you to know that I am at your disposition for anything you need to know. Please," he says, bowing slightly. "Let me help you like you helped me until now.”    

Iwaizumi blinks, feeling a little out of place. “Okay, I—yeah, I will let you know if—if I need anything,” he clears his throat. “Thank you, Kageyama.” 

They keep in silence, and even if the music is loud and there are people around talking, it still feels uncomfortable. Truth be told, Kageyama and him were never that close before, so it’s strange for Iwaizumi to consider him part of his circle of friends.

When they were in Kitagawa Daiichi, Tobio wasn’t really open to people and he was never seen around somebody in the breaks or during lunch time. He didn't know how to interact to people and that used to show all the time when he needed to cross words with his teammates.

On the other hands, Iwaizumi was good with his words, but only when it came to encourage the team during a match. Apart from Oikawa —and a few casual words from time to time with Kindaichi and Kunimi— he wasn’t really friend with anyone else. Not that he wanted to, either.  

Iwaizumi eyes sideways at the younger man, who is currently looking at crowd that moves with the beat of the music a few feet away from them. He looks curios for a moment, like he’s searching for something, until his eyes finally fix in a spot and a tiny smile appears on his lips. Hajime doesn’t need to look in the direction Kageyama is looking; he knows he’s going to find Hinata.

—                                                                           

It’s a cloudy Friday and Iwaizumi is going through some old photos that his mother sent to him when somebody knocks in the front door. He’s greeted by two bags full of fresh food and a whiny Sugawara that accuses him of forgetting their meeting. Iwaizumi assures him that that’s not true, but he Suga knows he’s lying.

Hajime needs to remind himself that Kōshi really spends a lot of time in his apartment because of the way he moves around the kitchen like it was his own. And even if Iwaizumi still feels a little bit weird about their friendship, it seems like their dynamics works. As well as with Daichi.  

Suga hums some song around, as he takes ingredients from the cabinets and mixes whatever the hell he's cooking in one of Iwaizumi's pots. It feels strangely domestic but in a really friendly way. Iwaizumi wonders if that's even a thing possible to feel.

"What time did they say they would come?"

Iwaizumi checks his watch, before walking into the kitchen. "Everyone is coming around eight, except for Daichi. He said he needs to stay a little longer in the company, but he would come right after." Iwaizumi doesn’t miss the way Kōshi’s hand clenches around the ladle’s handle. He opens his mouth without even thinking. “Was that one of the reasons why you both took a break, perhaps?”

“Ah,” Suga grins at him. “Did Daichi tell you about it?”

“I—um, I actually remembered about it.”

Kōshi nods, lips pressed on a firm line. “It’s been like—I don’t know. Eight months, maybe? But I still don’t get used to this. Like, I still feel so empty coming home and not seeing him there, or his stuff. And it kills me to see him but not being able to hold his hand or whatever cheesy shit couples usually do,” he lets out a shaky breath and Iwaizumi panics momently, because he was never good at comforting crying people and Suga looks like he might burst in tears at any moment. "But this is what I constantly ask myself: would it be worth it to actually get back together if nothing has changed?"

"What do you mean?"

"Daichi is always busy with work. You know that better than anyone, even if you can't remember the whole thing, you have been going with him to the office and have been able to see that he doesn't rest. Not a single second." The gray-haired man shakes his head. "And even if I have my schedule at work, sometimes I need to stay a little longer, or I get a call in the middle of the night for an emergency and I can't just _not_ go, you know? I knew this since the beginning; I knew being a doctor is about sacrifice in order of helping people. And I don’t mind, and I thought he didn't mind either but—I don't know," he sighs.

"Are you saying that all the fights were because he got mad at you for your work schedule?"

"No, it's not—" Suga lets out a shaky breath as he closses his eyes. "I'm sorry, I need a moment."

Iwaizumi nods and promises to take care of the food, so Sugawara can take his time to calm down. He's not sure what he should say in a moment like this. Even though he was always the first one in give advice to his friends back in high-school, none of their problems were something like this. He never had to say something about a serious relationship, nor something about actual adulthood.

When Kōshi finally comes back from the bathroom, he looks completely fresh and composed. It comes right away to Iwaizumi's mind how Oikawa used to call him Refreshing-kun and how well the nickname actually suits him.

"I'm sorry about that," the apology comes in a shy tone, as he sits in one of the stools of Iwaizumi's kitchen bar. "Where was I? Um... okay, so, I've been with Daichi since my adolescence, and I have known him for many, many years. And as you can imagine, all I want is for him to be happy, right?" Iwaizumi looks at him and nods, resting his hips against the counter. "And I know he loves me a lot, as much as I love him, but—I guess we just don't know how to connect anymore."

Iwaizumi tilts his head, confused. "Connect?"

"Yeah, like—okay, I am really sorry to say this, but—" Sugawara makes a small pause. "It's like Oikawa and you in high-school. Kageyama and I have talked a lot about you two, since both of you were his role model for a long time, and he told me about your dynamic back then,” he rambles. “What I'm trying to say is that no matter how annoying he could've been to you or how mad Oikawa could've got at you; you two just clicked together. You used to connect all the time, in the court and outside the court, and I'm pretty sure that if things get solved between both of you, your relationship will be the same as it was back then," Iwaizumi doesn’t say a single thing, so Kōshi takes it as an invitation to keep talking: “we used to have that with Daichi. It was so easy for me to always understand him and vice versa, but at some point we just—we kind of lost it? Like, we would fight over every little thing. If he came late from work, we would fight. If I had to put an all-night because of an emergency, there was another fight. Jesus Christ, we even fought once because the lights went off, as if that could be the other’s fault,” he shakes his head with a sad smile. “What I’m trying to say is that we lost the ability of understanding the other one. We weren’t even trying to get into the other shoes. I guess we were just really stressed out with the work and the relationship and the wedding and it was just so much at some point. It wasn’t healthy for us.”

"I—um, I get it. A break was the best option."

Suga nods with his lips pressed in a tiny smile. "I used to think we were perfect for each other, you know? But I guess what one believes isn't always the truth."

"Oh, don't come at me with that bullshit," Iwaizumi crosses his arms. "There's not such a thing as being perfect for each other, the point is that if you want to be with someone, you have to fight for it. That's what makes a relationship perfect, and what makes a person worth it."

“You just sounded like present-Iwaizumi. It’s good to have you back, you know?” He smiles brightly. There’s a knock in the front door and Suga stands up from the stool. “I'll go open the door, you keep mixing the food. And thank you for listening to me, Hajime.”

—

It’s finally after almost three months after the accident that Iwaizumi is able to finally have his whole work-routine adjusted again. He goes to work from Monday to Saturday, since early in the morning till afternoon. He goes in company of Daichi and even if Iwaizumi still is not able to go back to his office to work by himself, his boss gives him space enough to try and solve the most he can based on what he remembers, before checking the documents himself to make sure that everything is right.

The lunches with Yachi slowly start to be a thing again, too. It takes a lot to him not to blush when the small blonde ask him with nervous mumbles to go to the cafeteria in the corner with her, but luckily all the tension and discomfort are fast gone after they start talking. Iwaizumi understands then what Daichi meant when he said they both clicked together.

Nevertheless, the thing that makes him happier is the fact that he's finally able to go back to those friendly-matches that Daichi always talks about. He’s been told that they usually meet at Bokuto Kōtarō’s place, because he owns a volleyball court in his house and _yes, Iwaizumi, we’re friends with the whole team, half of them are acquainted from high-school._ This time, instead, they're meeting at the gymnasium where the national team usually trains. Iwaizumi feels how his hands itch with the eagerness of touching a volley ball again, of spiking and playing and just get the chance of being on a court again. _I guess passions never die_.

Daichi parks close to the gym entrance and as soon as Iwaizumi steps out of the car, the sound of the sneakers squeaking against the floor along with the noise of the balls hitting against hands and the floor, fills his ears. The smile on Hajime’s face appears instantly and Sawamura pats his back, encouraging him to go in.

There are a lot of people: Iwaizumi sees a few familiar faces and a few that he doesn't remember. There are coaches, and managers, and players and a few people in the stands. Iwaizumi takes a deep breath, feeling how refreshing it is to be here, and steps into the court.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” someone shots. “Iwaizumi is finally back!”

Every single person stops whatever they're doing and turns to look at Iwaizumi. It's a bit overwhelming, but Sugawara’s hand is always in his shoulder, squeezing to let him know that everything is fine, that he's not alone. So Iwaizumi smiles and waves a hand in the air, still feeling a little bit shy. Soon everyone starts to get closer to them, to greet him and hug him and tell him how deep felt his absence.

Iwaizumi tries to make eye contact to every single one of them. He tries to absorb every little detail that can help him recognize these persons, and even if most of them are still unfamiliar to his brain, there’s one man that he recognizes right away.

“Akaashi,” he smiles widely when the man steps close and bows. “It’s good to see you.”

Keiji smiles fond at him. “I’m glad to see that you’re okay, Iwaizumi-san.”

“That’s so unfair,” another one says with a pout. “Why does he remember you, ‘kaashi? Daichi, you say he didn’t remember any of us.”

“I said he doesn’t remember _most_ of us, Kōtarō.”

“Don't take it personal, Bo,” Iwaizumi recognizes instantly Kuroo’s voice. The taller man makes his way among a few persons until he’s right next to Akaashi, resting an arm around the younger's shoulders. “It’s probably because Akaashi’s face is far too pretty to be forgotten.”

Iwaizumi remembers Sawamura's words then—how he said that Kuroo is really _touchy_ with his friends. He gets why Sugawara doesn't like him; he doesn't like the man that much, either. 

The other man—Kōtarō, nods in agreement. “That is true, Akaashi's face is the prettiest,” then he looks at Iwaizumi. “You don’t remember me, Hajime? Ah,” he sighs and shakes his head. “I thought all of our arm wrestling battles meant something special, you know?”

He blinks a few times. It feels like his brain makes some kind of _click_ inside his head. “No way,” Iwaizumi says with his eyes wide. “I would never forget that you own me like—what, four? I think they were four meals that _you_ owe me because _I_ won,” he says, lifting four fingers in Bokuto’s direction.

Bokuto whines out loud and everyone around them laughs. It makes something grow warm inside of Iwaizumi’s chest because it—this feels so right. Like finally, even if not every single one of his memory is in there, he’s back to normal somehow. Back to his life, back to what makes him happier. Like right now and here, he has everything that he needs, except for—

“We are here!”

Hinata’s voice is audible in the whole gym. Iwaizumi turns around, smiling at the red-haired and at Kageyama, who steps in the gym right after Hinata. Hanamaki and Matsukawa get into the court then, both freezing at the same time when they spot Iwaizumi. They look at each other with worried expression, but then Makki shrugs and whispers something, before both of them reunited with everyone else.

And then, it feels like the floor is not there anymore. Iwaizumi feels like he’s floating around, like he’s in some kind of dream (if this is really a dream, please let it last a little longer), because right in front of his eyes, walking through the door like some kind of God in human form, is the one and only Oikawa Tōru.

“Sorry that we’re late,” the brunette says as he eyes as his shirt, looking for wrinkles. “The highway was a mess and we had to—”

Oikawa stops his own words when his eyes lock with Iwaizumi's. Hajime is not sure if everything around him suddenly disappeared or if actually everyone stopped talking at the same time. He blinks twice, without taking his eyes off of his childhood best friend, and realizes that everyone is holding their breaths, waiting for any of them both to make a move, to say a word, or really anything.

His heartbeat is a mess and Iwaizumi needs to clench a hand around his shirt, on top of his heart, because he’s scared that it might explode at some point. Oikawa follows the movement of his hand with his eyes and it seems to wake him up. The brunette runs a hand through his hair and sighs, finally walking into the gym.

“As I was saying, the traffic was awful so we had to take an alternative route to get here,” he resumes as he walks to a bench to leave his bag in there. “But now that the stars are here, I hope everyone is ready to play?”

Iwaizumi feels completely stupid for expecting something—a mere reaction from Oikawa at the moment they finally met again. Because they have a lot of friends in common, so it’s pretty obvious that they bumped into each other in these years. Because it wasn’t six years since the last time they saw each other; it was six years without Iwaizumi trying to fix things with Oikawa, even if they somehow kept meeting. He gets it now, why Kuroo was so mad at him, why he reproached to Iwaizumi for wanting to fix things after all these years. What an idiot, really.

Tetsurō is the first one to approach Oikawa. Iwaizumi knows he has absolutely no right, but he can’t help but to clench his fist when the taller man hugs Oikawa around the shoulders and whispers something in his ear. The brunette nods and then they head outside. Sugawara is next to Iwaizumi right away, squeezing his arm.

“Are you okay?”

Iwaizumi nods. “Yeah, I’m just—” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I wasn’t expecting him to be here.”

“I know. I wasn’t expecting it either. Daichi,” he calls. When he spots the dark-haired man, he drags Iwaizumi along with him, still his hand around Iwaizumi's bicep. “Did you know about this?”

Sawamura shakes his head. “It’s been like a year since the last time he came to one of our matches,” he says. “Maybe he wants to practice a little extra, since he missed the last two weeks.”

Iwaizumi feels like an idiot once again because of course Oikawa didn't came to specifically see him. He just came to practice, to have a good time. "I'm going to the bathroom. And no," he cuts off Suga's next words. "I'm feeling good; I don't need you to come with me. Stay here and warm up a little, I'll be right back."

Hajime follows the signs until he gets to the bathroom. There's someone else in there, too, whistling from one of the cubicles. Iwaizumi ignores it and walks towards the sink to refresh a little. The cold water hitting his face makes a shudder run down his spine.

"Oh, wow," the whistling is gone. "Long time no see, Hajime."

Iwaizumi straights up when somebody slaps slightly his butt, turning around to see who the hell did— "Yūji?"

"Ha, you remember me!" the man claps excitedly. "I heard about your accident as soon as I landed here two weeks ago. I wanted to come and see you sooner, but it's been a literal hell in work," he lets out a deep sigh. "How are you now? How's everything going on with—you know. With your memory and all of that."

“Yūji?” Iwaizumi asks again, still shocked. “You—you look different,” he says, looking at the smiling man from head to toes. The undercut Iwaizumi remembers is not there anymore, but Terushima's hair is still a mix of blonde and black. It suits him. “When was the last time we see each other? Was it that time when I dropped you at the airport?”

“Around that time, yeah,” Terushima nods. “It worked really well because they kept me for two and a half years.”

“Man,” Iwaizumi smiles wide. “I’m so happy for you. It must’ve been amazing.”

Yūji is about to answer him when the door swings open. Iwaizumi’s breath gets caught in his throat and his heartbeat speeds up immediately. _Fuck_. Oikawa walks into the bathroom and pass by them both without a single look, locking himself in one of the cubicles. _Fuck_. Terushima looks surprised, with both of his eyebrows raises. He gestures towards the cubicle’s door with an intrigued expression but Iwaizumi can't even think straight right now. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

They hear the rustle of clothes being take off, followed by a zipper being open. Oikawa is probably getting changed and Iwaizumi’s face blushes furiously. He shakes his head and pats Terushima’s arm twice —because he doesn’t trust his mouth enough to even say something— before stepping out of the bathroom and quickly into the court again.

Iwaizumi tries really hard to focus on stretching. He tries really hard not to eye at Oikawa, stretching as well, a few feet away from him. Alone. [ _Trust me when I tell you that he’s doing great by his own now_ ]. Iwaizumi remembers Tetsurō’s words. _Is this my fault? Did I really do that to him?_

Of course you did, you asshole.

“Sugawara-san is non-discreetly watching you,” Iwaizumi jolts at Akaashi’s voice. “I suggest you to stretch properly or he’s not going to let you play.”

Hajime smiles fondly at the younger man. Even though he’s not sure why, he remembers Keiji perfectly fine. How and when they met, their favorite dinner place, all the sleepovers they had. He kind of remembers Bokuto from there, too, because since the first time they met, Iwaizumi learned that where there's an Akaashi, it will be a Bokuto as well. Keiji returns the smile, as discreetly as he is, and all what’s on Iwaizumi’s mind right now is how comforting is to remember someone. To see a face and recognize it right away.

“I’ll make sure to do it properly then,” he says as he stretches both arms on top of his head. “How have you been? How does it feel to babysit a superstar?”

Akaashi rolls his eyes, folding over himself to touch his feet with his hands. “I'm not babysitting Bokuto-san. I just keep an eye on him, it’s—I think it’s just the habit I picked from high-school. Look after him.”

“Ah, yeah,” Iwaizumi nods. “Old habits are a hard thing to get rid of.”

They help each other stretching, and run together when one of the coaches tells them to. Since they're not a real team and this is just a friendly match, they don't spend much time in the warm-up.

Before Iwaizumi can realize it, they're all gathered to decide who are going to be the first ones in play. He leaves the speech to the others, studying everyone faces in silence. He sees how Hinata is kind of bouncing on his own feet, eager to play. Kegayama’s hands twitch, he’s probably feeling the same way. Akaashi is in front of him, hearing carefully to whatever Kuroo is saying. Next to him, Bokuto is swinging from his tiptoes to his heels.

"I got an idea," Oikawa raises his hand and Iwaizumi looks away instantly. "We never get to play that match of high-school captains versus aces."

Tetsurō lift his fingers and mumbles something to himself, before saying: “we have six ex-captains and three of them were the aces of their team.”

“And there are—one, two… four—five aces in total!” Hinata shouts.

“Then let’s put the national team in one and form another team with the ones left.”

“Makki, that’s totally unfair,” Oikawa whines. “It’ll be the most boring match of all times, we will beat you right away.”

"You, piece of—"

"We just need five players in each side of the court," says someone that looks vaguely familiar to Iwaizumi. "Since there're only two liberos today, I'll be in one side and Yaku-san is going to take the other one."

"Nishinoya is right," Sugawara says. "And since Oikawa is one of the captains and he's also the setter, he would be in the captains’ team. Kageyama, you can take the other side."

Hinata raises his hand, "But what about you, Suga-san?"

"I'm going to play against Keiji in the next one," Kōshi says, putting his arm around Akaashi's shoulders. "We own each other a rematch." Akaashi nods in agreement.

They finally choose the teams—Nishinoya, Kageyama, Bokuto, Hinata, Hanamaki and Iwaizumi in one side; Yaku, Oikawa, Daichi, Kuroo, Matsukawa and Ushijima on the other one. Oikawa complains out loud along with Terushima because _we never get to play that aces versus captains match, that's so unfair_. Iwaizumi feels nervous; not only because this is the first time he’s playing again after three months and his condition is probably not the best, but because this is the first time that he [remembers] is playing on the opposite side of the court, right in front of Oikawa.

Iwaizumi tries not to look at him because it still feels uncomfortable. Wrong, somehow. But as stubborn as he is, they end up making eye contact before the match begins. It makes every single hair in his body stand up, and he wants to smile so damn hard, to go and hug that man and never let him go again. But Oikawa is one step ahead and smiles first—he's giving Iwaizumi _that_ smirk, that gesture that he knows so well: I'm going to destroy you.

“Alright, everyone,” one of the coaches claps loud, calling everyone's attention. “Let’s begin the match.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think about it!  
> Have a nice day, everyone! ^^


	4. And don't you ever feel alone? And don't you wish you were home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even start describing how all of your comments make me feel. I'll be forever thankful for every person that follows the story, thanks a lot for reading it. I hope y'all like this chapter <3

It’s the best sensation Iwaizumi has had for the past three months—the moment his hand touches the ball to spike it into the other side of the court. It's a clean point for his team, who are up for a difference of two points now. Iwaizumi eyes at the score board and smiles at the sight of the 08-10.

He’s finally starting to feel comfortable with this new team. Iwaizumi still remembers Hanamaki's form of playing, so it's not really difficult around him. Bokuto is easy, too, because he puts everything he has into spiking, and you just need to be there to lift the ball if he gets blocked—mostly by Kuroo. But Nishinoya is there for that, so Iwaizumi feels pretty safe with him covering their backs. Hinata and Kageyama, though, are the hardest part: they seem to communicate without actual words. Kageyama seems to know exactly what Hinata is about to do, what he's thinking, which attack he is going to perform; so it gets kind of difficult for Iwaizumi to see where the ball is going to be send. It's kind of scary, to be honest, because Kageyama has the ability to read every single one of them and set the best ball to get the team at their hundred percent. _Just like Oikawa does_.

Bokuto is on the back of the court, ready for his serve. The referee blows the whistle, the ball lifts in the air and his teammate sends it to the other side of the net, so close to the back line that seems like it's going to be out, but Yaku is there in a second and connects the ball easily to Oikawa. Iwaizumi's heart throbs faster as he studies his childhood friend: Oikawa eyes Kuroo discretely and Hinata and Hanamaki are instantly going to block the man, but Iwaizumi stays in place because he, better than no one, knows that Oikawa is going to—

"Nishinoya, it's a direct one!" He shouts, but unfortunately, the libero reacts a second too late and doesn’t get the ball.

“Shit,” the shorter curses under his breath as he takes Bokuto’s hand to stand up from the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Iwaizumi smiles at him, patting his back. “We will get the next one, don’t worry.”

The game goes on. Most of Iwaizumi’s attempts on scoring are being blocked, and he doesn’t know if he feels particularly annoyed by the fact that Oikawa is the one who tells everyone on his team where Iwaizumi is going to send the ball—reading him like he's an open book; or because Kuroo is the one that blocks him every time he's sure he's going to score. _It doesn’t matter,_ he keeps telling himself. _It doesn’t matter as long as the ball is still on game._

Iwaizumi shakes his head and looks at the other side of the court, where Matsukawa is ready to serve. The referee blows the whistle, the ball rises in the air and Iwaizumi's eyes meet Oikawa's for a second before he's looking away. _Focus_. Focus, focus, focus. As the ball crosses the net, they both glance at each other again and Iwaizumi nearly misses his receive. He manages to lift the ball, sending it to the left corner where it connects with Kageyama. The ball is send into the air again, touches Hinata’s hand and slams into the floor at the other side. They’re up again. 22-20.   

The team rotates positions and Hanamaki goes to the back of the court for his serve. Iwaizumi is now in the center of the court, facing Oikawa. They lock eyes again, but this time the brunette doesn't look away. His expression is not completely blank—Oikawa is expressing something to him but as much as he was able in the past, Iwaizumi can't read him now. He looks exactly the same as he was in high-school—maybe more sharp, more manly; but Iwaizumi can _feel_ the way Oikawa has changed. He's not the same one he was before, and the blame is probably all on him.

Iwaizumi tries his best to focus on the game and not glance at Oikawa at every chance he gets. He tries really hard to give his hundred percent, but their team ends up losing the set. He blames himself for that too, even if Hinata and Bokuto say that it’s not his fault. When both teams change side of the court, Sugawara stops him, grabbing Iwaizumi's forearm.

"You should go to the bench for this set," the doctor says. "Go sit and cool down a little."

"What?" Iwaizumi frowns. "No, I want to play."

"Hajime," Suga says, using a tone that Iwaizumi feels familiar enough to know it's not good. "This is a _friendly match_. You just came back from an important accident, so you shouldn't be overworking yourself over this," he scolds. "Go to the bench, you can join back again in the next set or in the next match."

Sugawara's face doesn't give a chance to try and persuade him so Iwaizumi gives up, walking to the bench. Akaashi is there, offering him a towel before looking back at the match again. He sits next to the younger, watching the match attentively as he drinks a bottle of water. Now that he’s out of the court, Iwaizumi’s attention is completely on Oikawa. He looks at him, observes every gesture he does; his movements, the way he never stops studying everything, how his brain seems to never stop calculating. Iwaizumi lets out a deep breath, clenching his hand around the bottle of water.

“You really miss him, uh?”

He knows Akaashi is not actually asking. Iwaizumi is not sure how his brain functions, but the younger one seems to always know what’s going on, so there’s no point in lying. “I do.”

"Have you tried to talk to him?"

Iwaizumi nods. "Kind of, I guess," he makes a small pause. "I called Ushiwaka the other night—because Sugawara told me that they live together. But the person that answered the phone said he didn't know who I was and then hanged up."

"Was it Kuroo-san?"

"No," Iwaizumi shakes his head. "It wasn't his voice."

"Then it was Oikawa," Akaashi states. "Nobody else lives in there."

"Why would he—no, that's ridiculous," he denies. "Maybe somebody else was over to their home and—"

"Hajime-san," Akaashi cuts him off with an exasperated voice. "Every single one of their group of friends knows who you are. We all hang around the same people."

Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything for a moment. “What are you trying to say?”

Akaashi sighs and shakes his head. “I’m trying to say that Oikawa answered the phone, heard it was you and then hanged up. It’s not that hard.”

“But why would he hang up?”

“Because he’s mad at you,” Akaashi shrugs. “I would get mad if you did to me what you did to him, too. And I would probably never forgive you.”

“Yeah, well, but I don’t know what I did,” Iwaizumi snaps. “I can’t remember it, no matter how hard I try, I just can’t—all I recall from that time is that he was _so mad_ at me because I refused to get into the national team and then—I don’t know. My mind is a mess and I can’t—,” Iwaizumi lowers his head, holding it between his hands. The tears are there, making his vision blurry, but he’s not going to cry. He can’t. “I just want to know what happened. What the hell I did to fuck things up like this.”

Akaashi rubs Iwaizumi’s back, leaning slightly against him. “Why don’t we go to the bathroom? Let’s get you some cold water, a little bit of fresh air and then I will tell you about—”

“What’s going on?” somebody— _Oikawa_ asks. “Is he okay?”

Iwaizumi’s heartbeat rises. He blinks a few times, trying to remove the tears, before looking up. Only then he realizes that the match is paused, and both teams are looking in his direction. Iwaizumi opens his mouth to talk, to say that everything is fine and he's just an idiot, but his eyes locks with Oikawa's and he can't pronounce a single word.

Oikawa, nevertheless, can: "are you okay?"

“He’s okay,” Akaashi intervenes when he realizes that Iwaizumi can’t say a single word. “Just need some fresh air.”

The brunette nods slightly, turning around to get back into his position. Akaashi pats Iwaizumi’s back, indicating him to stand up. The referee blows the whistle and the match resumes as they both leave the gym.

—

Akaashi hands him a bottle of water before sitting next to him. “So,” he takes a deep breath. “I’m not really sure what I should tell you. Or how,” the younger confesses. “I don’t want to say something that causes you shock.” 

"I can handle it."

"Of course you can," Akaashi smiles at him. "Then I guess that I will answer you whatever you ask me."

Iwaizumi nods. Even if he knows he's able to ask as many questions as he wants, he takes his time to think carefully his next words: "I went to Hosei University, right? It's where we met."

The younger man nods, almost instantly. “Yes, we met there,” he adds. “It was a last minute decision for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, since you were called from the national team, Nittaidai University offered you a sport scholarship. But you denied both of it and went to Hosei instead.”

It doesn’t hit him like the memory of Daichi and Suga’s break-up, but the memories slowly start to float around on his mind. Iwaizumi remains sitting in his bed, staring blankly at the letter placed in front of him on the mattress. Nippon Sport Science University is read on top of it, next to the official logo of the Nittaidai University. There’s a knot in his throat and the constant feeling of tingle in his stomach. Iwaizumi feels like he might throw up at any moment.

_Breathe in. Hold it. Now breathe out._

He finally reaches for the letter. With shaking hands, Iwaizumi tears the envelope and slowly unfolds the paper. A single piece of paper. A single paper sheet that has his whole future written on it. The nausea is back and he needs to slam a hand on top of his mouth, shutting his eyes.

_Again: breathe in. Hold it. Everything is going to be alright. Breathe out._

He takes his time smoothing a little the two folds of the letter, avoiding reading any sentence, before finally focusing on the content. He goes through the basic data; the date, his name, his home address and then…

“ _Dear Hajime-san: Congratulations. On behalf of the Nippon Sport Science University community, I am pleased to announce your admission.”_

The letter falls into the floor as Iwaizumi curls up in his bed and cries his heart out.

Akaashi moves next to him, sitting in a better position to face Iwaizumi and that takes him back to reality. He blinks a few times and looks around, remembering where they are. Akaashi doesn’t say anything, waiting patiently for him to speak first. Iwaizumi looks away, rubbing his neck a little embarrassed.  

“I spaced out, I’m sorry,” he murmurs but Akaashi downplays the situation waving his hand. “I remember about the admission letter from Nittaidai.” 

“That’s good,” the younger man smiles sweetly. He puts a hand on Iwaizumi’s tight, just like he remembers is usual between the both of them, but it doesn’t make the blush in his cheeks go away. “I’m sorry, was it too much? I shouldn’t—”

“No, no, it’s completely fine,” Iwaizumi interrupts him, taking Akaashi’s hand and placing it back on his leg. “I have another question,” he says after a moment.

“Spit it out.”

“What was it?”

Akaashi is silent for a moment. “You mean what you did to him?”

Iwaizumi nods. “Kuroo told me I rejected him. Daichi told me we had a fight on graduation’s day. But I can’t remember any of those things,” he shakes his head. “All I remember from back then is that we promised each other that no matter what, we weren’t going to tear apart.”

“You did reject him,” Akaashi says carefully after a few moments. “That’s what he says, and that was what you told me. I don’t know the details about it, but I do know that it was on your graduation’s day. So I guess both of them—Daichi-san and Kuroo-san, I mean, are talking about the same day.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head again. “It can’t be true. Why would I?” He looks away. “I was in love with him. I know that, I remember it clearly.”

“ _Were_ you?” Akaashi emphasizes the word.

Iwaizumi looks at him, taken back. He knows what Akaashi means, and he’s about to reply: _yes. Of course I was. Maybe I still am, I don’t know what_ —but Kuroo Tetsurō steps out of the gym and looks around, until he spots them both.

“Hey, pretty one,” he calls, not even bothered to look at Iwaizumi. “Bokuto is looking for you. Come back in when you can.”

Akaashi nods and gives him a little smile. As they go back inside again, a few minutes later, Iwaizumi can’t stop thinking about the fact that Kuroo called him _pretty_ twice, and Akaashi took the compliments as if he was completely used to that. If Iwaizumi wasn’t so sure about Akaashi’s feeling towards Bokuto, he would think that maybe, just maybe, they’re dating.

Iwaizumi shakes his head and walks to sit next to Terushima.  

—

It’s probably around four—maybe five in the morning, since the sun still hasn't risen. Iwaizumi stares at the ceiling, the same one he has been looking at for the last few months, and still finds so unfamiliar.

He misses the ceiling on his childhood room, painted in a soft blue, full of plastic stars that glowed in the dark in a soft green tone. He misses the ceiling on Oikawa's room, dark blue and full of falling stars, planets and rockets slowly spinning around, being projected by his favorite night light. Because Oikawa couldn’t fall asleep if around him weren't any kind of light, no matter how soft it was. Iwaizumi wonders if he's still the same; he wonders if his best friend still needs something— _someone_ to hug if there isn't any light around.

Iwaizumi stumbles out of the bed and makes his way to the kitchen. He reaches for a beer can, before stopping himself to grab a bottle of water instead. The cold wind blows over him when Iwaizumi opens wide the window, sitting on the floor next to it.

He stares absently at the sky. There are no visible stars and he vaguely recalls the weather forecast saying that it will probably rain today. Hajime's thoughts drift away and soon he finds himself thinking in how much Oikawa used to hate the cold weather. _He probably still hates it. He probably still complains a lot about how hard it is to train when it's cold._

It takes just a few minutes for him to realize how stupid he’s being right now. In the past, whenever some of his teammates or friends had a hard time accomplishing something, Iwaizumi was always the first one in say that they should fight for what they want. He used to say that no matter how many times they fall, they should stand up again until they could be able to reach their achievement. He feels like a hypocrite. No matter how many years had passed—how many times he had fall. If he really wants Oikawa back in his life, he has to fight for it. For him.

[“Iwa-chan, I’m really happy like this,” Oikawa murmurs in a soft voice. It’s breathless, really, having him like this: lying next to Iwaizumi, with both eyes closed and a soft blush on top of his cheeks. _I’m really happy like this, too_.]

It’s 06:53 a.m. when he finally goes back to his room. He gets in bed, knowing that he has a total of forty-five minutes of sleeping before waking up to go to the office. Iwaizumi stares at the clock absently, watching it tic until his eyes fall shut.

He dreams of warm hands holding his, a head pillowing on his shoulder and soft hair tickling on his neck. He dreams of sadness and loneliness and being empty. About Oikawa’s smile, and his eyes framed by those stupidly cute glasses he used to wear all the time at home. There’s a mix of emotions, cold and warm in between. And a few moments that —Iwaizumi is _sure_ — are memories coming from the darkest places of his mind, not just dreams anymore.

[“It doesn’t matter if we didn’t get into the same college,” Oikawa tries to cheer him up, but Iwaizumi knows him so damn well to know that his best friend is seconds away from crying. He feels like shit for lying to him, he wants to tell Oikawa that everything will be fine because he did it; that they actually made it into the same college. But this is for the best. “We still have each other, no matter what.”

Iwaizumi swallows the knot in his throat and nods. “No matter what.”]

Iwaizumi's breath gets stuck in his throat and he gaps, rolling in the mattress. The dream keeps repeating in his mind and he squeezes his eyes shut, like somehow that's going to help him get back to sleep.

[“What do you mean?”

“What you just heard,” Iwaizumi shrugs, feeling defeated. “I won’t go to the national team. I’m not joining it.”

“But why not?” Oikawa snaps at him, his eyes full of tears. _He won’t cry,_ Iwaizumi remains himself; _Tōru is too strong for that._ “We said that we will be together in this. You said it would be fine. This is your dream, Iwa-chan, this is what you—” Oikawa cuts off his own words when Iwaizumi hugs him tight. “You said that we will always be together,” he finally breaks, sobbing into Hajime’s shoulder. “You promised me. No matter what.”

“We will, Tōru,” Iwaizumi shuts his eyes. “We will always be together, no matter what. This doesn't change anything.”]

His hands grip tightly into the covers, as Iwaizumi rolls in the bed once again. His heartbeat rises up by every minute and he’s _sure_ his heart is going to jump out of his chest. He finally opens his eyes, the first glints of sunlight being visible in the room.

Hajime sits in the bed and rubs his face, trying to think in another thing—anything, really. The dreams—the memories don’t go away, though; they just keep repeating constantly in his mind like some kind of torture to him.

 [“I’m sorry,” he says, not being able to hold Oikawa’s look.

The brunette shakes nods and looks away. “Yeah, you probably are. But I don’t believe you.”]

He feels like he’s going to throw up. The walk to the bathroom is hard, and Iwaizumi stumbles across the hall, holding himself against the walls. Once he gets to his destiny, he lets himself fall right next to the bathtub. He doesn’t throw up; nothing comes out of his mouth. He does cry, though, until the sun is shining bright through the window.

—

First attempt: Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

Four days later, Iwaizumi walks into the cafeteria where Hanamaki and Matsukawa are waiting for him. He cancelled his usual lunch with Yachi and asked them both to come instead. He’s so tired, so done. Iwaizumi needs answers, he deserves them, and his old high-school-friends should be able to help him more than anyone else. 

“You look like shit, man,” Hanamaki suddenly says and Matsukawa nods at his side. “Did you even sleep last night?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head slightly, sipping his black coffee before making a disgusted face. “I couldn’t.”

“Did something happen?” the black haired man asks, pushing the sugar bowl into Iwaizumi’s direction.

“I'm having horrible nightmares,” he answers, rubbing his face.

Hanamaki sips his coffee noisily. “About the accident?”

“No, I already remembered the accident a few weeks ago. And I'm working with Sugawara on accepting it and all of that, so it’s not as shocking as it was in the beginning. But I just keep having these dreams about—” Iwaizumi cuts himself off and stares at his friends, whom are looking back at him expectantly. “I’ve been dreaming of Oikawa, lately," he says slowly, studying their expressions.

"That explains the _horrible_ part," Hanamaki says like nothing. Matsukawa, instead, remains silent. "Are those just nightmares or are you remembering things?"

"I don't know," Hajime shrugs. "I don't even know what happened between the both of us back then so I'm not sure if the things I'm dreaming—"

"You don't remember about what happened in high school?" Matsukawa finally asks. "Not a single thing?"

"I mean, I do remember a few things," Iwaizumi mixes his coffee, avoiding looking at his friends. "Like a few random days of practice, and a few classes," a small pause. "And the fact that I rejected the chance of getting into the national team when I was offered to. But most of the things—I don't remember almost anything."

Hanamaki and Matsukawa share a look—one of those Iwaizumi perfectly remembers they used to share all the time; the I-know-what-you're-thinking-so-you-don't-have-to-say-anything look. He remains in silent as his friends talk without actual words, waiting impatiently for anything they have to say.

Hanamaki is the first one in talk: “Oikawa doesn’t know anything about the accident.”

“Yeah, I really doubt Kuroo or Ushijima had told him anything about it.”

“And of course, we—” Takahiro says, pointing at them both. “—didn’t tell him anything about you. And we won’t say anything about him to you, either.”

“Why not?”

“Because that wouldn’t be fair for Oikawa,” Matsukawa says and Iwaizumi can’t stop thinking that he had never seen him look this serious about something. “It wouldn't be fair for him to go and say that you had a car accident, that you don’t remember a single thing so he should come and tell you what you did wrong back then. Or why you should apologize to him for."

"Both of you are our friends,” Hanamaki says with his straw stuck between his lips. "And we know the hard time that you two had back there trying to get over the fight and all of what happened," Mattsun nods. "But this is something that happened between you two, and there're plenty of things that we don't know about it. It doesn't matter if we tell you what happened, why he is mad or whatever, because we only have half of the story."

"We don't know what happened behind closed doors."

Iwaizumi leans back on his chair and lets out a deep sigh. “I guess I will talk to him directly, then.”

“Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa says serious. “Why are you doing this? Why after six years of barely greeting each other?”

“I need to know what happened.”

“Yeah, but that’s all?” Hanamaki asks then. “Do you think it would be fair to make him stir all the past memories, and the pain, and the hard times, just because you want to know what happened?”

“What are you trying to say, uh?” Iwaizumi crosses his arms. “That I should just let it all go like nothing happened?”

Matsukawa shrugs. "You already did it once."

"Yeah, but I was an asshole back then," Iwaizumi finally snaps. "I was an eighteen years old asshole and I didn't know what the hell I wanted, and that's why I ended up hurting the only person that really mattered for me back then. So excuse me," he says sarcastically, standing up from his chair and grabbing his suit jacket. "For trying to fix it all and for trying to apologize to him for all the shit I made him go through."

Neither of them tries to stop Iwaizumi as he stomps out of the cafeteria, though he hears Hanamaki asking if they should. Matsukawa shakes his head, sips his coffee and assures his best friend that Iwaizumi needs a little time to cool down before they meet again. Iwaizumi knows it’s true.

He walks down the street until he’s in front of the company building again. His clock indicates that he still has at least around forty minutes of his lunch break, but Iwaizumi doesn’t feel hungry anymore. With a deep sigh, he walks into the building. Yachi greets him with a concern look, but Iwaizumi waves the subject off by assuring her that he just isn't getting enough sleep.

Iwaizumi's left foot hits the floor impatiently, as he waits for the elevator —which seems to be taking longer than usual— to get to the low level. He checks his clock when the ring finally announces that the doors are being open, and as Iwaizumi walks into the machine, someone shouts behind him.

“Stop the doors, please!”

When he looks up from his clock, Kuroo Tetsurō's face greets him as the man walks through the hallway in his direction. Iwaizumi doesn’t pronounce any word, stopping the doors for closing with his hand. Tetsurō doesn’t thank him, either, once he’s in the elevator.

“We met like this the first time, too,” he finally says when the doors close. “Remember?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t remember. “What are you doing in here?”

“Why are you asking?” the taller man crosses his arms and leans against the back wall. Iwaizumi presses the number seven, not even bothered in asking Kuroo which floor he’s going to. He’s probably going to visit Daichi, anyways. “Are you interested in my life now, Hajime-kun?”

“Do you flirt with every living being that breathes?”

“No, I just know how annoying it is for you if I act like this, and since we don’t really like each other, this is really funny for me,” Tetsurō shrugs. “Plus, if it’s a living being, it probably breathes one way or another. You should’ve said something like _every living being that walks_ or something like that.”

Iwaizumi’s brain does the _click_. That little process he got used to already, where he remembers something suddenly and his brain kind of stops for a moment. Kuroo Tetsurō is a _huge_ nerd. “I see you haven’t changed. About your obsession for science, I mean.”

“Oh,” Kuroo places a hand over his chest, acting like he’s being touched by Iwaizumi’s words. “You remember me now?”

“Quite hard not to,” Iwaizumi leans against the back wall of the elevator as well. “Since you’re a pain in the ass.”

Tetsurō looks away and smiles. Iwaizumi thinks is quite melancholic, but he doesn’t say anything. They made the rest of the way up in complete silence. As he thought, Kuroo leaves the elevator next to him, on the seventh floor, and walks to Daichi office like he owns the place. He comes here pretty often, probably.

Iwaizumi doesn’t follow him to his boss office; he walks to his own, instead. There’s not much he can do in there, since all the papers and projects are in Daichi’s office, but he’s not going to interrupt whatever they’re doing in there.

Instead, Iwaizumi sits on his chair with a deep sigh and takes out his phone, scrolling through it without something concrete to do. Soon his thoughts drift away and soon he finds himself thinking about Oikawa once again. Lately, it seems like that’s the only thought that takes place in his mind. He goes over and over again about the memories he got, about high-school days, about the match they had. It doesn’t matter, as soon as Oikawa is the center of it.

Another deep sigh leaves his mouth. Iwaizumi leans back into his chair and goes through his contact list. _Ushijima Wakatoshi. The text he sends is simple: I need your help. Please._

—

Second attempt: Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Surprisingly, Wakatoshi shows up next day on Iwaizumi’s apartment, around dinner time, with two orders of take out. Hajime is quite taken aback, since Ushijima didn't answer his text, but he lets the man get into his house without a single word.

“I usually leave my phone in the locker room during practices so I won’t get distracted,” are his greetings words. “Every person that’s close to me has the manager’s number so if there’s an emergency, they contact me there,” Wakatoshi keeps going as he moves to the kitchen to search for plates and cutlery. _He moves around just like Sugawara does_. “I saw the text really late and then remembered that you don't have the number because your phone got crushed at the accident, so I came here with apology-take-out.”

Apology-take-out sounds really familiar to Iwaizumi, so he assumes this is a _thing_ between them. “I’m sorry if I make you worried,” he says, filled up with guilt. “I wasn’t an emergency; I just needed to talk to you.”

Ushijima blinks and remains silent for a few seconds. “Did you remember something?”

“Nothing concrete,” Iwaizumi gulps. He takes the bowl that the taller man offers him and both move into the kitchen bar to sit. “I just have been having dreams—that _I know_ they’re not just dreams, and it has me a little bit lost around everything.”

“You mean you’re remembering things but in form of dreams?”

“I think it’s like that, yeah,” Iwaizumi nods. “But I don’t have a way to confirm if they’re just dreams or if I’m actually remembering something.”

Wakatoshi goes silent again, chewing slowly his food. “Have you talked with Kōshi about this?”

“Not yet, but I have an appointment at the end of the week with him.”

“Right,” Ushijima nods, before carefully pronouncing his next words: “I assume that this has something to do with Oikawa, right?” Iwaizumi opens his mouth to say something—anything that comes to his mind, but the words doesn't come out. He closes his mouth in a firm line and nods slightly. "And you expect me to help you with this."

It’s an affirmation, not a question. Wakatoshi puts his chopsticks down and intertwine both of his hands, looking down for a moment. Iwaizumi doesn’t move—he even hold his breath at the thought that maybe, just maybe, Ushijima got mad at him for Hajime’s intentions.

Iwaizumi is about to say something, mouth already open, when Wakatoshi looks back at him. “Truth is I can’t help you on this one, Iwaizumi,” he says.

“What?” Iwaizumi sounds breathless.

“Well,” he gulps and looks away. “Oikawa found out about the accident. The same day you came back to the practice matches.”

“But how did he...?"

"Well, it's Oikawa who we are talking about," Ushijima says as if that has all the sense in the world. _It does, actually._ "As soon as we get home, Oikawa made us—Kuroo and me, sit to have a conversation. He directly asked us if something had happen with you. And Kuroo is not good at lying to him," he says, before adding in a shy voice. "I'm not good, either. He just knows it if I tell a lie."

“Are you saying,” Iwaizumi leans into the table. “That he just noticed that I had an accident?”

“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “He asked if something happened and we tried to avoid the topic, but Oikawa is pretty insistent when he wants to know something and then he—I’m sorry, you know this already,” Wakatoshi stops. “We denied it but he was insistent, and Kuroo ended up telling him about the accident and how you don’t remember a few things.”

Iwaizumi blinks a few times, remaining in silent. "How did he know that something happened?"

"Tōru said you were acting weird," Ushijima explains. "It's true. Before the accident, you wouldn’t even look at him whenever you two ended up in the same place. He said you kept looking at him during the match, and then when he asked you if you were okay, you answered. You didn't ignore him."

Hajime absorbs the words one by one, his brain processing them slowly. He leans back against his chair, with his sight lost in a random point in the kitchen bar. Wakatoshi remains in silent, letting him take all the time Iwaizumi needs. Finally, realization hits him hard and it feels like somebody just stabbed him in the back.

“Present-Iwaizumi is really trash, uh?” he asks, blinking away the tears that gather in his eyes. “I can’t believe it.”

"We can talk about something else if this isn’t pleasant for you," Ushijima offers.

"No, I—" Iwaizumi shakes his head. "Am I really that bad to him?"

Wakatoshi presses his lips together and looks away, remaining silent for a moment. "You're a nice person, Iwaizumi," he says. "You're a really good friend, to me and to everyone in our group. But with Oikawa," he sighs. "I don't know why you two broke up in the past. I don't know what happened, but you never denied that it was your fault, so I really don't understand why you were so stubborn in ignoring Oikawa."

The click is there in a second. The memories of Oikawa crying, hugging Iwaizumi tightly, and the ache in his chest as he hugged his best friend back, just as tight. The way it hurt to let go of his hand, to say goodbye. To let everything behind.

Iwaizumi barely makes it to the bathroom. He leans into the toilet and empties the content of his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think about it. Have a nice day, everyone! ^^


	5. You know the only real way to cure pain is to add a little more, because everything new distracts the old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you like this chapter; I am really excited to finally post it!   
> Also, I really appreciate lot every single one of the comments y'all write for me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so, so much ❤

“I’m _fine_ ,” Iwaizumi tries to protest, but Sugawara’s expression makes him shut up immediately.

“Did he black out suddenly?” the doctor asks directly to Ushijima, who stands behind Iwaizumi with his arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word, but by the nod that Suga gives in response, Hajime deduces that the taller man shook his head. “Have you been feeling like this often, lately?”

Now it’s Iwaizumi’s turn to shake his head. “It just happens when a memory detonates another one and my head just—won’t stop.”

Kōshi hums and goes to his briefcase, searching for the stethoscope. He instructs Iwaizumi— _breathe in, breathe out, deep breaths_. Hajime lets him do a complete check, without complaining, because he can see the way Sugawara seems to be struggling about something.

His friend seems absent, like his mind is drifting somewhere else. Iwaizumi doesn't need to ask to know that the reason is Daichi. They came into Hajime's apartment together, but Daichi left barely five minutes later, muttering apologies and rambling about how he should go to back to the office to end the work he had left. Iwaizumi knows Sugawara is really mad at Daichi right now.

The silence turns uncomfortable after a few minutes. Iwaizumi turns around to look at Ushijima and even if he doesn’t pronounce a single world, the taller man nods. “I’m going off now,” he announces, grabbing his jacket. “I have to fly to China at first hour on Monday, but I'll be there only for a week. I’ll contact to you then, Iwaizumi, if that’s okay with you.”

Iwaizumi nods, still feeling a bit confused at how Ushijima read him when he wasn’t actually trying to say something. “That’s okay. Good luck in there.”

“Kōshi,” Wakatoshi says then, placing a hand on the gray-haired man’s shoulder. “It’s going to be fine. Don’t stress out about this again, please.”

Sugawara nods but doesn't say a thing, looking at his own feet the entire time. They remain in silence as Wakatoshi leaves the department, and keep it like that for around one or two minutes more, before Kōshi finally broke it with a sigh. And somehow, Iwaizumi senses—knows Suga's about to break now, so he reaches for his friend's arm and pulls him into a hug. He resists a bit, but Hajime doesn't let go. Finally, Kōshi breaks in tears, grasping tightly at Iwaizumi's shirt.

It doesn’t feel as strange as it was in the beginning: Iwaizumi is now really used to the way Sugawara seems to rely on him with every aspect of his life. Before, when he wouldn’t remember most of his present life, Iwaizumi was sure that his closer friend was Daichi; so it was a surprise to remember that he actually would trust way deeper in Kōshi before anyone else. And it's the same for Suga, Hajime just knows it.

“Why don’t we move to the couch?” he offers in a low murmur, his lips moving against Suga’s hair. “It would be more comfortable,” Iwaizumi tries again when the doctor doesn't say a word.

Sugawara lets go of Hajime's shirt and takes a step back, taking a few deep breathes before nodding slightly. "I'm going to wash my face first," he announces with a broken voice. "I'll be right back."

Iwaizumi waits on the couch, fidgeting his fingers to try and distract his mind. It doesn't work; the thoughts just keep swirling in his head. The memories of the countless nights he has spent next to Sugawara because he was just too sad to be by himself, and how in the next morning, the doctor would leave for work looking like nothing had happen. And all the nights Iwaizumi had to drag his boss out of a bar because Daichi was so drunk that he wouldn't be able to stand on his own feet by himself; those remain clearly in his mind, too.

Kōshi walks out of the bathroom and to the couch, dropping himself next to Iwaizumi and leaning his head on his friend's shoulder immediately. It still feels a bit uncomfortable to be this close, but Hajime is slowly getting used to that. He lets his head fall on top of Suga’s.

“He said we should get back together,” the doctor murmurs after a moment. “He said he misses me too much to keep going with this take-a-break thing, and that it doesn’t matter what it takes, he would do it if that makes me go back.”

Iwaizumi presses his mouth in a firm line, considering which ones would be the best words in a moment like this. "You miss him too," he mutters finally. "Am I right?"

"I do. You know I do," Sugawara nods. He does a small pause. "But we can't—I don't know if I— _I can't_."

"You can't?"

"I can't get back together with him," he whines, hiding his face into Iwaizumi's shoulder. His next words come out muffled: "I don't want to go through all of this again. I can't do it, not again. You may not remember but it was awful, Iwaizumi, and I—I just can’t go back to that again."

"What makes you think that things are going to be like that again?" Iwaizumi asks, caressing Sugawara's back lazily.

"Nothing has changed, Iwaizumi," Kōshi lets out a sigh. "I mean, he left to go to the office at almost midnight, after asking me for a second chance. It almost seems like a joke at this point."

Iwaizumi remains silent for a moment, considering every point. "You two took this break to think about all the things that might be interfering in your relationship," he states. "If you get back together, it will be a long process to change every aspect that needs to be changed. But that only can be possible if you are up for that," he looks down at the doctor. "You're the one that needs to say if you're ready to stand next to him and fight against whatever tries to pull you two down again. You know better than anyone if Daichi is a person worthy taking the risk of being hurt again.”

Suga doesn’t say anything, just shifts his position, moving a bit closer. Eventually, Iwaizumi ends up turning on the TV to fill the silence and sooner that he expects, Sugawara is dozing off on his shoulder. Hajime takes him to the bedroom and tucks him in the bed. It’s better than sleeping on the couch and Iwaizumi doesn’t think he’s going to get much sleep anyways.

Iwaizumi goes back to the kitchen to wash the few dishes that Ushijima and he used for dinner. He doesn't get much done, though, since his mind seems to finally stop thinking about Daichi’s and Suga’s relationship, only to shift and start remembering about Oikawa's with him. Now that he’s all alone, nothing seems to be able to stop his thoughts, so Iwaizumi gives up and returns to the couch. 

The feeling of guilt is clinging in the back of his throat; Iwaizumi feels it like a knot that won't disappear. The words he said to Sugawara weight in his mind, plus the thought that he should put his life together before being able to give advice about love to other people.

The picture of Oikawa face covered in tears appears in his mind suddenly. He was never sensitive about people crying, but there's something about him—something about the way Oikawa looks so broken, that makes Iwaizumi's heart ache at the sight. Tōru’s begging for an explanation, one Iwaizumi never had the courage to give. One Iwaizumi doesn't even think he has.

One memory leads to another, and Iwaizumi is really used to that by now, but the single fact that all of them are about Oikawa, makes him want to take his heart out so it would stop hurting. Oikawa's slow breaths tingling on his neck as they lay together in Iwaizumi's childhood bed, listening to the wind and the rain and the thunders outside the window. It seems like the skies are about to fall into the earth, but Iwaizumi doesn't care; he's where he wants to be.

And Oikawa's awful laughter is there, too, being the loud person he is and calling the attention of the entire school cafeteria. But the corners of Iwaizumi's mouth are curved up a little bit, too, because laugh just suits Oikawa so well.

There's another memory then, one when they're fighting and even if Iwaizumi's not sure about what is it, he _knows_ it's some stupid thing. But Oikawa seems so mad, so bothered by the whole situation that Iwaizumi can't last much longer before pulling him in for a hug. His best friend doesn't move for a moment, but then he's hugging Iwaizumi back, clenching his hands around the fabric of Hajime's shirt and muttering under his breath. Iwaizumi remembers himself smiling; _what a big baby you are_.

Iwaizumi doesn’t know how long he stays there, sitting on his couch and staring blank into the floor, while the memories flow around in his head. He’s not sure how he feels about it, either; his chest is filled with a mix of joy and sadness and regrets. Hajime shakes his head and gets back to reality. The knot in his throat is still there, and even though he sighs deeply, it doesn’t seem to help making it go away. He reaches for his phone, unlocks the screen and looks at the time.

_01:04 a.m._

His mind doesn’t make the click this time.

_01:04 a.m._

The memory hits him like a truck.  

_01:04 a.m._

[Iwaizumi is sitting in his bed, in his old room, looking at the time on his phone. 01:04 a.m. Next to him, Oikawa shifts in his sleep, yanking the blanket to cover his naked body and taking it away from Hajime's one. He looks completely peaceful like this, unaware of everything around him, of any possible harm. Iwaizumi’s heart throbs in his chest at the thought that he wants to be there forever, being the shield that's going to protect Oikawa until his last breath.

He looks away.

The cold of the floor under his feet makes him hiss under his breath, as he stands from the bed and searches for his underwear. Oikawa shifts again, moving to the center of the small mattress, but he doesn’t wake up. Iwaizumi looks at him again from the door, so beautiful—almost ethereal, he could say. He shakes his head and leaves the room.   

The note that his mother left in the kitchen counter is still there, along with the box of pizza, since both Oikawa and he were too busy to even care about food when they found out that the house was alone. Iwaizumi feels his cheeks burn at the though. He wrinkles the note and throws it into the trash bin, before opening the box of pizza and biting into a portion without even bothering in heating it.  

Iwaizumi stays there for a while, in the dark of his kitchen, thinking about anything in concrete but everything at the same time. The only thing he is sure of right now is that he wants the ground to swallow him entirely and just disappear. But that won’t happen, Iwaizumi knows it; he has to go back to bed, eventually, and face this whole mess he got himself into.

Oikawa is not sleeping when he gets back to the room. Iwaizumi’s heart rises when he enters into his bedroom and finds his childhood friend half-dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, the letter from the Nittaidai University in his hands.

“Iwa-chan,” he mumbles in a low voice, his eyes moving over the lines in the letters. “What’s this?”

“Tōru, where did you—” Iwaizumi closes the door and leans against it with a loud sigh. There’s no point in lying now, Oikawa is going to find out about it anyways. “I was going to tell you about it.”

“Were you?” Oikawa gulps, finally looking at him. It takes a few seconds for him to talk again: “Since when?”

Now, it’s Iwaizumi who remains in silence for a moment. “It came two weeks ago.”

“Right,” Oikawa nods. He folds the paper again and put it back into the envelope, before standing from the bed and finishing getting dressed. Iwaizumi doesn’t move, just follows every movement with his eyes. “I’m going back home, can you please move from the door?”

“Can we talk about it?” Iwaizumi tries in a soft voice, but when he reaches for Oikawa’s arm, his best friend steps back. “Tōru, please. Let’s cool down, sit and talk about this. It’s not a big deal, we can—”

“It’s not a big deal?” the brunette boy interrupts, indignation filling his voice. “It is a big deal for me! You’re making decisions for the both of us once again, you’re not even thinking about what I wanted!”

"Don't say that," the shorter boy asks, trying to reach for Oikawa again, but he steps back once more. "Oikawa, please, come on. Let’s talk about this and—"

"No," he cuts Iwaizumi's words off. "No, I'm not going to fall for it again. I won't let you sweet-talk to me out of this," Oikawa shakes his head. "I can't believe you didn't even ask me about it, why didn't you—"

“Well, I’m sorry, okay?” Iwaizumi finally snaps. “I'm sorry for deciding over _my own life_ without asking you about it for once."

Oikawa remains silent, staring at him. Iwaizumi can see the anger in his eyes, mixed with sadness and—panic. _He's going to panic._ Fortunately, this time Oikawa doesn't back up when Iwaizumi grabs his arm and pulls him into a tight hug. They stay like that for a moment, before Hajime feels the way his best friend’s grip into his back gets tighter. Then, the first tear comes down.

“Tōru,” Iwaizumi breathes out, hugging his best friend tighter. “Don’t cry, please. Don’t cry.”

But there is no reaction from Oikawa. There’s no uncontrollable sobs or words filled with anger, because he's not like that. Because Oikawa is too strong and he wouldn’t show any weakness to anyone, not even Iwaizumi. So they stay like that for a briefly moment, hugging each other, until the taller boy breaks the contact and steps back. Iwaizumi feels like someone just ripped his heart out of his chest.

“Tōru, please,” Iwaizumi tries again, feeling desperate for a reaction—anything, really. He grabs the other’s hands and searches for his eyes, but Oikawa doesn’t let him. “Please, let’s talk about this.”

Oikawa smiles at him, but there’s no happiness or joy in there. It’s bitter and Iwaizumi feels his heart drop. “I think there’s nothing to talk about. Everything is pretty clear for me, actually,” he nods slightly. “I guess it was matter of time for this to happen. I just thought that you would have the enough balls to tell me when you grow tired of me.”

"I'm not—I'm not tired of you, I could never—" Hajime grabs his face to make him look at his eyes. He feels the words stuck in his throat and it takes all of him to finally have the courage to say it: "Tōru, I'm in love with you."

Oikawa takes a deep breath. He takes Iwaizumi's hands off of his face gently. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispers. "I guess I will see you tomorrow at graduation."

"Oikawa," he tries again, but his best friend is already at the door. When Oikawa turns to look at him, so hurt, so sad, Iwaizumi's throat goes dry. “I’m sorry,” he says, not being able to hold his gaze.

The brunette nods and looks away. “Yeah, you probably are. But I don’t believe you.”

Iwaizumi flinches when Oikawa closes the door behind him.]

—

Iwaizumi wakes up to the sound of Sugawara cooking and humming around in the kitchen. His whole body feels numb and his neck hurts so much that he needs a few minutes of massages on it to finally be able to turn his head around. He groans in pain when he tries to stretch his limbs, and once again when he finally stands up from the couch.

"Good morning, sleepy-head," Suga smiles warmly at him. "Thank you for lending me your bed."

"It's nothing," he waves a hand, downplaying the matter. "Are you feeling better?"

Sugawara seems to consider it for a few seconds, before turning around to keep mixing whatever he's cooking. "I feel like shit, actually," he shrugs. "But I guess I just need to give it a really deep thought and then talk to Daichi to figure this entire thing out."

Iwaizumi hums. “I'm going to go shower, and then we can talk properly about this,” he gives the doctor the best smile he's able to put.

"Are you okay?" Sugawara crosses his arms and leans against the kitchen counter. "Are you still feeling bad?"

"No, I'm—I just—" a deep sigh leaves his mouth as Iwaizumi gives up. "I was going to talk to you on our next appointment on Friday, but I guess it doesn't matter anymore," Iwaizumi rubs his neck. "I've been having these—dreams,” a small pause. “I have—I have been dreaming about Oikawa, particularly."

“O—key,” Kōshi puts down the spatula and focuses his whole attention on Iwaizumi. “What’s the matter about it?”

“I’m pretty sure that, uh, those are not just dreams,” he says. “That I’m actually—uh, remembering things, I guess.”

The doctor’s face lights up at that. “Well, that’s great, Hajime!”

“Yeah, and—and I think I know what happened between the both of us,” Iwaizumi nods. “But I’m not a hundred percent sure.”

Sugawara narrows his eyes and hums. He keeps silent for a moment before his next words. “You want me to help you talk to him, right?”

Iwaizumi blinks, feeling taken aback. “How did you—”

“Oh, come on, we have been like best friends since you broke up with Shibayama,” Kōshi rolls his eyes. “I know how to read you better than no one.”

Iwaizumi blinks. “Shibayama?”

“Right, sorry,” the doctor rubs the bridge of his nose. “When we met again in college—I mean, when Daichi introduces us both as friends, you were dating this kid from the Nekoma High School. He was younger than you for two years or so, so when finals came for him, you two just broke up because of time differences.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi mutters. “I didn’t remember about that— _him_.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad about it because it’s not your fault,” Suga nods with a sympathetic smile, but then his expression changes suddenly: the frown is back and Iwaizumi slightly fears for his life. “But don’t you try to run away from this. What do you want with Oikawa?”

Hajime remains in silent for a second, feeling like some kind of kid that’s being scolded for playing outside and get back home covered in dirt. “I just want to see him. Talk to him, ask him—ask him how's he doing, how's everything going in his life.”

The doctor sits in one of the stools and pats the one that next to him. “Come here, sit with me,” he asks and Iwaizumi obeys. “I don’t know what it feels like to go through what you’re going right now. Not being able to remember why you lost the person that mattered the most to you must be really awful,” Suga says, fidgeting his fingers on top of the counter. “I do understand the curiosity you’re feeling, though. The necessity to know what happened and that, at some point, you actually have the right to know. Because it involved you too, but—” he doubts for a moment, searching the right words to say. “I want you to take the time to think about it enough. Because as much as you deserve to know what happened, it isn’t going to be fair for Oikawa to go back to all of that again. Think about it, think about him; if this is really something that you’re willing to do, no matter how much it might hurt Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi nods. They don’t talk about it.  

—

Days go by slowly after Iwaizumi finds out that there's going to be a game next weekend. A big one. Japan against Egypt, on their first match for the Volleyball World Cup, and they’re playing at their home-country. He's left feeling anxious after Daichi tells him about it, saying that he has tickets for Iwaizumi if he wants to join. Of course he wants. 

So the end of the week seems to never arrive. His shifts at work feel way longer, and then when the night arrives and he’s ready to sleep in his bed, Iwaizumi's mind starts thinking and imagining and creating scenarios of _what's if_ —so yeah, sleeping is getting a bit difficult as well.

The game is settled on Saturday around six p.m., so he’s not actually surprised to have half of his group of friends—Daichi, Suga, Makki, Yachi and Yūji, dropping by his home on Friday's night. Conversely, Hajime’s happy to have company and, for once in a long time, he lets himself get a little bit wild with the alcohol. They don't last long—the adult life gets them knocked out, drunk and tired, around three in the morning in a mess of limbs and empty cans of beers around his living-room. The last thought that runs through Iwaizumi's mind while he's dozing off, comfortable with the warmth of Yachi's body pressed next to his, is that he should probably refill his mini-bar.

-

Iwaizumi regrets his life choices next morning—late noon, actually, when Sugawara wakes them all up to have a fast breakfast before hitting the road to Ariake Coliseum. Iwaizumi feels awful: his mouth is completely dry and taste like something has died in there, and the headache is killing him. His friends are no better, except for Suga that seems too full of energy. "I really don't know how he does that, but I have never seen him with a hangover," Daichi told him once. Iwaizumi believes it now.

It’s not a long ride to the gymnasium where the game will take place, about half an hour from Iwaizumi's place, but they leave the house two hours early since they've to go around the town to pick up a few more people. Hajime ends up squeezed in the back sit between Sugawara and Hanamaki, with Yachi sat in his lap. He thinks that this shouldn't be normal, and that it should probably make him uncomfortable, but Iwaizumi is well aware of how gay he actually is so it's not a big deal. Yachi doesn't seem to complain either. 

Sawamura drives them to Matsukawa’s house, where they drop Hanamaki and Sugawara, who are going to go with Mattsun and Kindaichi in the latter's car. Then, they take back road in direction of Akaashi’s department. They wait a few minutes for the younger, who comes out the door moments later, carrying a big briefcase and an even bigger backpack.

"I swear to God," Terushima sighs out loud. "I'm going to burn those cameras one day."

"I can hear you," Akaashi says and even if it's not visible due his face mask, Iwaizumi knows he's smiling. "Come here and help me get this in the trunk, come on."

Terushima groans out loud, but obeys anyways. This time, Yachi is the one in the middle of the back seat while Iwaizumi gets the left window. He remains in silence while Daichi and Yūji talk lively about the game in the front seats and, next to him, Yachi tells Akaashi about this new TV show she started watching. 

_It's really strange_ , Iwaizumi finds himself thinking. How this is still completely new to him, yet feels totally normal. Like he's already used to this, to the dynamics and the personalities and how everything works between all of them. Iwaizumi knows he actually is used to this, and it's even weirder how there are no visible memories yet the feeling of familiarity is there, tangled in his chest.

The Ariake Coliseum is majestic.

Iwaizumi blinks twice—he’s amazed by the amount of people that are gathered at the front doors, waiting to get into the place. “I didn’t think this would be this big.”

“Wait to be inside of it and then you can be shocked,” Terushima says as he puts his arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders. “We should get in line, though. The team is probably about to get into the court to warm-up.”

“I will see you there,” Akaashi says as he adjusts his camera around his neck. “I will go say hi and see if there are any free places on the left corner. They’re starting on that side of the court.”

"And we should probably get some stuff to eat for later, the prices inside the stadium are insane," Yūji complains as he rubs his stomach. "Yachi, darling, come with me?"

“Sure,” the blonde girl smiles before turning to face Iwaizumi and Daichi. “We will meet you inside; don’t let anyone take our seats.”

Iwaizumi follows Sawamura inside the building. They don't go immediately to search for their seats, since Daichi asks him if it’s okay to say hi to the team before and Hajime doesn't see a reason not to (that's a lie, he has oh so many reasons to say no, and most of them have the name of Oikawa Tōru on them). But he follows his friend through the crowd of people in direction of the court, without complaining.

The team is already in the warm-up phase: some of them are practicing with balls and some others are stretching in pairs. Iwaizumi spots Hinata forcing Kageyama to fold into himself on the floor, pressing his entire leg against the taller man's back. He’s about to say something—or maybe just snort, because the image of Kageyama trying to reach for Hinata’s feet without a single chance of success, it’s a pretty funny sight; but the words are stuck on his throat. He should be really used to his body reacting this way whenever he sees Oikawa, but it's seems like Iwaizumi's pretty far from be able to control his actions.

“Kindaichi texted me and said that they’re about to—are you okay?” Daichi cuts his own words off, looking concerned at Iwaizumi. “Do you not feel well? Hang on a little, Suga should be—”

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “I’m okay, it’s just—I got dizzy for a moment but I’m okay now,” he smiles the best he can. “Let’s say hi before the game starts.”

Sawamura doesn't buy any of that and Iwaizumi knows it, but his friend doesn't say a thing either. They walk among the small space that's between the first line of seats and the barrier full of ads that divides the volleyball court from the tribune, until they reach the area where the Japan team is warming up.

"Sa-wa-mu-ra," Iwaizumi stops himself from rolling his eyes when Kuroo's voice fills his ears. The taller man hugs Daichi around the shoulders and places a noisy kiss in his cheek.

Sawamura pushes him away. “You’re so fucking gross, how does Kenma even bear with you,” he complains, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Oh, you’re here too,” Tetsurō says, completely ignoring Daichi’s words. The name keeps echoing on Iwaizumi’s head. “Hello, Hajime. How’s everything going?" he smiles felinely.

Iwaizumi nods slightly. “Everything is fine. Good—uh, good luck today,” he says, before looking in Daichi’s direction. “I’m going to the bathroom before the game starts. I will meet you in our seats.”

Sawamura nods and Iwaizumi gets out of there the fastest he can. It takes him a while—and he has to ask for indications twice, to find the bathrooms. He locks himself into one of the cubicles, finally feeling free enough to take a few deep breathes. Iwaizumi tries to calm down, tries to tell himself that everything is going to be fine because this is not the first time he’s seen Oikawa since the whole accident-thing, but the memory of what happened the night before graduation doesn't stop repeating in his head. He just can't think straight right now.

Iwaizumi feels like an idiot right now for even thinking it would be a good idea to come here after all that he’s been remembering. All of the memories are gathered in his mind, tormenting him for being a coward. The simple memory of Oikawa’s empty look directed at him causes havoc on him.

Iwaizumi feels the regret climbing in the back of his throat, clinging into him firmly; regret for not being able to stop him, for not hiding that damn letter in a better place, for not telling Oikawa that it wasn’t a lie, he wasn’t lying. Iwaizumi was in love with him. Iwaizumi still is—the door of the bathroom opens and he jolts at the sound, getting back to reality.

He waits around two minutes patiently for the person to leave the room, because he doesn't feel like interacting with other people right now. But then two minutes turn into five, and he's tired of waiting for someone who doesn’t seems to have any intention to leave—Iwaizumi has been hearing them walk around and turn on and off the water tap multiple times. So he unlocks the door and steps outside the cubicle, only to be greeted with the image of Oikawa leaning against the bathroom sink, gaze fixed straight into Iwaizumi's eyes.

“Good afternoon, Iwaizumi,” the brunette man greets and Iwaizumi’s heart throbs in his chest at the way Oikawa says his name. “I heard that you wanted to have a little chat with me.”

Iwaizumi blinks. _Holy shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!  
> Have a nice day, everyone!


	6. I fell in love from the moment we kissed, since then we've been history

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a long time and I'm truly sorry about it. I wanted to post this chapter earlier, but this last weeks had been a little rough for me. I had a few family issues that I needed to take care of, so I wasn't really able to sit down and write. Again, I am really sorry for the wait, but I hope you like the chapter!

A heartbeat goes by. Then two, and three, and Iwaizumi counts ten before realizing that he still hasn't say a single thing. So he clears his throat, trying to get rid of the knot that clings to the back of it without any success.

"I'm—” he begins, but it sounds more hesitant than in his head, so Iwaizumi tries again: “I'm assuming that Ushijima talked to you."

"He didn't,” Oikawa answers after a few seconds. “Kōshi was the one who told me about it, actually."

Hajime blinks, daring to lock eyes with the brunette man for a moment. "Oh,” he lets out. “I didn't think that Suga would actually help."

"I don't think you can call it that,” the volleyball player says as he shifts his position against the bathroom sink. Iwaizumi follows every movement. “He just told me that you wanted to contact me to talk about— _the past_ ,” another shift, and Oikawa crosses his arms. _Ah, so he keeps doing that whenever he’s defensive._ “And I think you know him pretty well to know that he was not going to interfere in this, he just said that it was my choice."

"You don't have to do this," Iwaizumi says right after, almost cutting Oikawa’s words off.

"I want to,” the brunette says firmly. “I think I need to give it all a close to have my mind in peace, so,” he shrugs. “I think that having a talk about it would be the best."

Iwaizumi doesn’t talk—he doesn’t know what he should say. He isn't sure what could make Oikawa get terrible mad at him, either, or what could make him go away and never want to talk to Iwaizumi again. Truth is, Hajime feels like he’s walking through the dark in an unknown place, fully conscious that any minimal step he takes in the wrong direction can make everything around him come crashing down.

"I've been remembering a few things,” he finally says. “But most of my memories from back then are pretty—um, blurry."

Oikawa hums and nods, looking away from Iwaizumi’s eyes for the first time. "I'm sure we can work into something.”

“Right, um—” Iwaizumi rubs his nape. “Do you want to meet up at some place? The game is about to start and I don’t think that it would be a nice moment for you to talk about this.”

Oikawa unlocks his phone and scrolls through it, before handing it to Iwaizumi. “I don’t think you still have the same number as you did back then, so write the new one here and I’m going to contact you.”

“Are you?” the words slip from his mouth before Iwaizumi can stop and think. “I’m sorry; I’m not in position of—”

“Just write the number before Kuroo comes looking for me,” Oikawa says, sounding a bit exasperated. “And yes,” he remarks a few moments later. “I will contact you.”

Oikawa leaves the bathroom without saying another word, only a slight nod in Iwaizumi’s direction as a goodbye. Iwaizumi can’t stop thinking about the _Iwa-chan <3_ followed by his old number on Oikawa's phone. He wonders if the brunette man is going to change the nickname at some point.  

-

Egypt is the one that has the first serve, but Japan gets the point at the end, thanks to Ushijima and Kuroo blocking. Kageyama goes to the back of the court to serve, sending the ball so close to the net that it's almost impossible for the other team to receive it; but they do, connecting the ball and sending it to the one Iwaizumi thinks might be their ace. The tall man jumps and slams the ball with his right hand, ready to smash it against the opposite court, but Hinata and Kuroo block him. The point goes to Japan again.

Their team gets eight points in a row, before Egypt scores their first one. Things get complicated from that point, since the African team escalates easily until the score marker is at 8-7. Japan’s coach asks for a time out, then, and Iwaizumi feels like he’s blinking for the first time in the last fifteen minutes. He rubs his eyes slightly, catching Sugawara's attention.

"Does your head hurt again?" the gray-haired man asks, rubbing slightly Iwaizumi's back. "Do you want to go out for some fresh air?"

Hajime shakes his head. "No, no. I'm okay. It's just that I was so concentrated on the game that I forgot to blink."

Hanamaki snorts from the seat in front of him. "On the game, _sure_."

Iwaizumi is about to say something in return but gets interrupted by the referee blowing the whistle. The game resumes without any changes in the team. Iwaizumi glances in Hanamaki’s direction, making sure that the other man isn't looking at him, before searching for Oikawa. He's next to their coach, sitting in the bench and observing the game in complete silence. Iwaizumi can't help but smile, understanding why Oikawa isn't playing right now, knowing exactly how the brunette's mind is working in absorbing every single tactic and weak point the other team has. _He hasn’t changed a bit._

The team gets pressured again when they are up 20-14, and Egypt scores seven points in a row, placing the score marker at 20-21. Japan’s coach calls for his second time-break and Iwaizumi watches as the team gathers up around the bench. It doesn’t surprise him to see that Oikawa is the one that gives indications, specifically talking to Kageyama at some point. What surprises him a little bit, nevertheless, is the fact that the one guy that seems to be their manager—a skinny and kind of short (compared with the ones in the team) man, with long, blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, suddenly interrupts Oikawa to point at Tetsurō and said something. Iwaizumi blinks, feeling a bit lost when Oikawa nods and they discuss something, before saying a few more words that makes the whole team nod in agreement. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“Suga,” he calls on top of the noise of the people chanting for their team. Sugawara leans a bit closer to him to listen better. “Who is he?” Iwaizumi asks, pointing at the blonde guy.

"Hm?" the gray-haired man looks at the direction Iwaizumi points. "Oh. That's Kenma, Kozume Kenma."

Iwaizumi hums. “Daichi mentioned him before,” he says. “The name sounds familiar but I’m not sure if I remember him.”

“He’s kind of the manager of the team,” his friends say, gesturing with his hand.

“He figures as the manager of the team on the list, but Kenma is actually a player,” Matsukawa joins then. “But since he’s another setter, and doesn’t really like to get all sweaty in the game, he stays in the bench as the manager. It’s like his comfort zone.”

“And Kuroo and Kenma used to play together since they were little, so when the team usually trains, Kenma is the one that helps perfecting Kuroo’s technics,” Daichi explains. “He relies a lot on what Kenma has to say about a game.”

“And,” Hanamaki butts in then, lifting a finger in the air as he turns around to look at Iwaizumi. “Kenma is a really observant person, so it’s really good for the team to have him.”

Iwaizumi hums. He searches for Oikawa again, finding the player standing next to the blonde guy now, nodding as Kenma says something and points at their own team. He's sure they are talking about how the opposite team found out about how easy is to go through Hinata's block if they use enough strength, because their gestures seem to say that. But then his friends stand up and scream, and Iwaizumi realizes just now that Japan has won the set 25-21.   

Hajime joins his friends, standing and cheering as he claps enthusiastically, watching their team leave their side of the court to switch sides with Egypt. Iwaizumi doesn't miss the way Tetsurō pulls Oikawa in for a tight hug, before ruffling Kenma’s hair —the guy seems like he’s ready to fight Kuroo for messing up his hair— and placing a kiss on top of his head. He blinks, as his mind does the click and he _perfectly_ remembers why Kenma’s name sounds so familiar: he’s Kuroo’s boyfriend.

The second set goes by a little blurry for Iwaizumi, as he gets lost in his thoughts. He recalls perfectly one time, when he was outside Sawamura’s office and happened to listen to Daichi and Suga arguing. Iwaizumi remembers the words _Kenma_ and _Kuroo_ and _dating_ and Daichi telling the gray-haired man how _you shouldn’t be jealous, Tetsurō is head over heels for Kenma since always._ When Iwaizumi snaps awake from his trance, the Japan's team is losing the set for three points, 19-22, and the coach is calling for a time-break. Kageyama and Bokuto leave the court, switching places with Oikawa and Ushijima.

“Ah,” Daichi sighs with a big smile, leaning against the back of his seat. “I wish the coach would've left Kageyama on the court, too. He and Oikawa know for sure how to put on a good show."

Iwaizumi’s eyes fly to Kageyama’s figure, sitting on the bench while he opens the bottle of water that Kenma handed him. Even though he can’t see the setter’s face due the angle, like that night at the club, Hajime doesn’t need to see him face to face to know that he’s looking at Hinata. And probably smiling at him, too, since the orange haired it’s looking back in his direction with a smile that could cover his whole face.

“Daichi,” Iwaizumi says louder than he means and ends up calling all of his friends' attention. “Kageyama and Hinata are dating, right?”

Sawamura blinks and diverts his gaze from Iwaizumi to Sugawara, and then back to him. “Well,” he rubs his chin. “I wouldn’t call it _dating_ , but they for sure are a thing.”

“Neither of them has confessed to the other yet. Like, _ever_ ,” Sugawara says as he rolls his eyes, annoyed. “But they know—I mean, _we all know_ about their feelings. They are not dating but somehow they’re kind of—exclusive, with each other. Neither of them date, or like anyone else, or flirt with another person.”

“Like you and Daichi,” Yūji says before slurping his soda. When the group goes quiet, he looks around. “What? It’s the truth.”

The atmosphere feels tense and Iwaizumi for sure is regretting the idea of sitting between Daichi and Suga. He tries to focus into the game once again, noticing that the marker shows 26-25 and the Japan's team managed to turn the game around. One of the players from Egypt is serving right now, and Iwaizumi holds his breath as the ball goes near the back line. He's sure they're going to lose this point, but then Nishinoya is there suddenly like a beam of light and the ball lifts in the air, going straight to Oikawa's hands. The other team moves quickly and positions itself to block, going directly to Hinata when the short man prepares himself to jump. Iwaizumi is on his feet before anyone else because _he knows_ Tōru and he knows which tactic he’s going to go for. He looks excitedly at the way Oikawa shifts slightly his body to bring down the ball in the opposite court with a single movement of his hand.

They win the set.

Iwaizumi screams at the top of his lungs, both hands around his mouth like a megaphone. Oikawa cheers with the team for a bit, jumping along and screaming, but then he looks at the tribune, his eyes searching, looking for—he spots Iwaizumi and smiles. A big, genuine smile and Hajime feels like his legs are jelly.

"That was amazing," he manages to say, and even if he doesn't know if Oikawa can actually read from his lips a single word of what he's saying, Iwaizumi adds: "I'm proud of you."

Oikawa nods and turns around, joining the collective hug his team is tangled on.

-

The team loses the third set, but neither Iwaizumi nor his friends stop cheering for a second. Even if it's not a big difference —since they lost it 22-24— Hajime knows how hard it hits on a team's pride. So he keeps singing along, screaming and clapping, even if he knows he will probably be aphonic the whole next week.

They’re in the four set now, down 13-17 and Iwaizumi pretty sure he wouldn't have any nail left in his fingers if Sugawara wouldn't had smacked his hands twice for biting on them. He just can't stop worrying about it, even though Daichi assured him that Japan will win. So Iwaizumi tries his best to not bite at his nails and not overthink too much about Oikawa’s smile directed at him, but he fails terrible at both.

“I’m _this_ close to tying your hands behind your back,” Kōshi scolds him, smacking his hand away for third time.

“Mh,” Terushima wiggles his eyebrows, placing his arm around Suga's neck. “That sounds kinky. Mind if I join?”

"Shut up, you asshole," Suga pushes him away. "You're scaring Yachi."

"She's fine," Yūji smiles wide. "Isn't that right, darling?"

"Don't worry, Sugawara-san," Yachi smiles angelically, before pulling at a strain of Terushima's hair. The man whines out loud. "I learned how to handle him."

Iwaizumi realizes he’s smiling only when Daichi sighs out loud and shakes his head. “I still don’t know how Yachi was scared to dead of Tanaka if she’s capable of defending herself from an idiot like Terushima.”

"I heard _that_ —Yachi, let go me!" Terushima whines again. "I'll be good, I promise."

"She knows how to handle him because they're are cousins. Or, um—something like that. His step-father married Yachi’s aunt," Iwaizumi says, before even realizing that he remembers that. "They found out a few years ago. After Yachi graduated from high school, her family made some kind of big party for her and they bumped into each other in there." 

Iwaizumi remembers about Terushima’s complicated family. How his mom and step-father were married for a long time, and how Mr. Hayashi is the only father Yūji has ever met. And also how hard it was for his friend when they divorce and his mother got sick. Mr. Hayashi took care of Terushima since the first day, so when his mom passed away, he didn’t doubt a single second in take Yūji under his wing.

"Oh," Daichi blinks. "I didn't know that."

Iwaizumi is ready to answer that he didn’t know he remember about the relationship they had, but his ears catch the scream of _match point_ and he’s thrown back to reality. The game is still on, and Japan is in match point with the marker at 24-22. Iwaizumi’s heartbeat rises automatically and he clenches at the fabric of his pants to hide the fact that his hands are shaking.

Iwaizumi knows he’s used to this. He remembers back in high-school days, when Oikawa and he used to go and watch the matches from the national team whenever they played in Japan. Iwaizumi remembers perfectly the feeling of hands clenching tight, usually Oikawa's hands between his own. Of heart beating fast, especially whenever Oikawa would move closer to him unconsciously. And his throat sore from screaming so much—it was so common for them to scream at the other's face whenever the team scored a point (Iwaizumi remembers how hard it was for him not to grab Oikawa's stupid pretty face and kiss him right on the lips).

Looking at it now, it feels so different. Now Iwaizumi doesn’t feel like he’s cheering just for the team, but for Oikawa mostly. For his best friend, for the love of his life, his other half—Iwaizumi can’t call him like that anymore. He finally admits to himself that his friends are right: Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Sugawara, even Kuroo. Everyone. Hajime has no right to come and tear apart all of Oikawa happiness just to know what happened between them in the past. Maybe it’s the best to leave it all behind and move on, for once. 

Japan wins the match. Iwaizumi claps and screams along with his friends, but the joy feels sour inside him.

-

They step outside the stadium almost at the end of the big crowd. Iwaizumi can’t stop thinking in how close his group of friends seems to be around each other. But then he realizes that it’s probably normal for Daichi and Suga to search each other’s hands as they walk without even thinking, since they dated for a long time. And that Hanamaki and Matsukawa had always been clingy to each other, so it’s common for them to half-hug when they’re walking. And he remembers how Yachi and Terushima somehow got to be pretty close to each other after finding out that they're kind of blood-relatives.

Iwaizumi is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realizes the young boy that runs in front of him, and he ends up landing in his back in the ground to avoid crushing the boy. He lies there, feeling the throbbing pain in the back of his head, until a pair of curios eyes pops in front of him. "I'm sorry, sir, are you—Iwaizumi-san?"

Iwaizumi blinks. "Takeru?"

"Hajime, are you okay?" Sugawara rush to his side.

"Did you hit your head?" Daichi is there too, kneeling next to Iwaizumi. "Do you feel nauseous or dizzy?"

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Iwaizumi assures his friends, accepting their help to stand from the ground. “Are you hurt anywhere, Takeru?”

The teenager shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Iwaizumi-san,” he apologizes.

"We are going to—um," Daichi hesitates.

"We are going to help Akaashi with his cameras," Suga smiles, intertwining his arm with Sawamura's. "We will wait for you in the car." 

“Okay,” Hajime smiles at them. He turns to face Takeru and ruffles his hair a little. “You’ve grown a lot. How tall are you now?”

“5’ 8” last time I checked,” Takeru says proudly with a big smile. It takes him a few seconds before speaking again: “I haven't seen you in so long, Iwaizumi-san. Did you come here to see uncle Tōru playing? He was on fire today,” the teenager exclaims animatedly.

“Ah, well,” Hajime rubs his nape. “We could say so, yeah.”

“Did you two made peace?” Takeru blinks up at him, curiosity filling his eyes. “Uncle Tōru hasn't talk about you in a long time, and he never answers me when I ask. What happened between you two, Iwaizumi-san?”

Iwaizumi sighs unsure of what he should say. "It's a long story and you should probably go back with your uncle before anyone gets worried," he smiles. "It probably will take some time, but I promise you things would get better," Iwaizumi assures, patting the boy's shoulder.

"I hope we can meet again soon, and play volleyball," Takeru exclaims. "I'm in the team at school, and I'm the ace. I got a lot better so I will beat you for sure now."

Iwaizumi smiles as he tries to hide the yearning feeling that fills his chest. "I'm looking forward to it."

Takeru says goodbye to him with a bow, before doubting a few seconds and give Iwaizumi a half hug. Hajime is taken aback for a moment but returns the gesture, patting his back. The teenager waves a hand and starts walking towards the buss of the team. Only then Iwaizumi spots Oikawa, looking at them. The player gestures him with his hand and Hajime takes out his phone as soon as he understands. There's a new message from an unknown number.

_Save my number. I will call you._

—

It happens almost a week later, when Iwaizumi is in his office checking one of the projects that the guys from the Product Services sent him that morning. Hajime has been checking his phone constantly the whole week, and he has jolt a little with every message or incoming call that has light up his phone screen. When Daichi asked about it, Hajime told him he's imagining things (he wouldn't admit that he was afraid of Oikawa not calling him).

Lunch break is close and Iwaizumi feels starving since he hasn’t had any breakfast this morning. He’s been texting with Yachi for half an hour now to accord the place where they’re going to eat, when his phone rings, announcing an incoming call.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi answers without even looking. “Did you pick up a place for lunch?”

“No, I didn’t,” Oikawa’s voice says. “I was going to ask you if you have any preferences first.”

“Oh,” Hajime blinks, looking at his phone screen. A big _Tōru_ is shown. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it was—”

“That I was someone else?” Oikawa interrupts. “It’s okay. I guess you’re not able to go for lunch today, then.”

“No, no,” Iwaizumi exclaims a little too loud. “No, I am—I can go. Just tell me where.”

“You don’t have to cancel because of me,” Tōru says. “We can meet up tonight. I know a good ramen place close to the Shinjuku Station,” he offers instead.

It takes a few seconds for Iwaizumi to get back to Earth, blinking at the closed door of his office. “Yeah, that’s sounds good. If—it’s okay to you, we can meet at the station?”

“It’s okay for me,” he can’t see it, but Iwaizumi has the mental image of Oikawa shrugging as he says that. “I’ll meet you at eight o’clock,” a small pause. “Don’t be late,” he adds before hanging up.

Iwaizumi stares at his phone, big white letters in the screen announcing the end of the call. “But you were the one who was always late to everything,” he murmurs to himself.

He sits in there for a while, looking at the papers of the project scattered on top of his desk but without actually paying much attention to them. It's nothing new, but Iwaizumi can't stop thinking about Oikawa. Not since their conversation at the game. He feels in a crossroad: the last thing Hajime wants it to keep hurting Oikawa, but he also wants to know the truth about what happened between them and it seems like the only way to find it out it's to directly ask him about it.

It’s really unfair, if he thinks about it. Life gave him a second chance, an opportunity to fix things (in a really bitchy way, but still), and it’s up to Iwaizumi if he wants—no, not wants. Iwaizumi _wants_ to take the chance. It's up to him if he's _going to_ take it.

It might help to give it all a close and move on, as Oikawa had say, but it might also awake memories that Iwaizumi’s not sure if he could handle. What if the past hurts too much? What if Oikawa doesn’t want to forgive him? What if Iwaizumi can’t forgive himself? 

“—mi?”

Iwaizumi blinks awake from his thoughts and jolts a little when he spots Yachi at the door. “Sorry, what?”

“Are you okay?” she asks. “Should I call Sugawara-san?”

“No, I’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “I spaced out for a second.”

The blonde girl narrows his eyes. “You're not okay.”

“I am, really,” Iwaizumi smiles at her. “Are you ready for lunch?”

-

Half-way to the restaurant in the corner of the street, Iwaizumi realizes that he has been so deep in his thoughts that neither of them has pronounced a single word. He looks at Yachi from the corner of his eyes, but the blonde is just walking abreast him and looking around. She doesn’t look bothered, and Iwaizumi briefly wonders if this is normal for them; if this is one of those friendships where you can be in silence for hours and it would never be uncomfortable. Just like with— _no. Stop thinking about him_.

“Ah,” Yachi sighs next to him, crossing her arms. “Why is this place always so crowded on Fridays?”

Hajime looks forward and notices that they're stopped in a line outside the restaurant, and there're at least fifteen persons before them, waiting for their turn to take a table. He sighs deep. “What about take out at the office?”

“But we walked all the way here,” the blonde girl whines.

Iwaizumi laughs shortly and places his arm around Yachi’s shoulders. “It was only half block, you’re overreacting.”

“Yeah, sure,” she rolls her eyes. “Try walking half block with these on,” she gestures at her high-heels. “Let’s order take out, but you’re paying.”

By the time they got back to the office with their food, lunch break it’s almost over, but Iwaizumi invites Yachi to the seventh floor anyways, assuring her that Daichi is not going to get mad at her for being absent fifteen minutes. He makes sure to keep the conversation this time, talking about random things that happened that morning in the office as they step out of the elevator and make their way to Iwaizumi’s office.

Yachi is about to open the door, but the noise of something hitting the floor followed by laughter stops her. The blonde girl jolts and hides herself behind Iwaizumi's back, both of them looking in direction of Sawamura's office.

"Was it Daichi-san?" she whispers. "Did marketing finally make him go nuts?"

Iwaizumi holds back a laugh. "It might be," he says. "You go in; I'll go check up on him."

Yachi nods and walks into Iwaizumi’s office quietly, taking the bags of food with her. Once the door gets shut, Hajime makes his way through the short hallway that separates their offices. The closer he gets, the better he hears the conversation inside. Iwaizumi catches the words of _stop it_ and _better go_ and _lunch break_ and his name.

It takes him around five seconds to realize that it’s Sugawara’s voice along with Daichi’s.

Iwaizumi’s eyes get wide as another laugh floats around the office and the hallway, followed by the sound of kisses. He jolts when there’s a thump in the door and the noises are now closer. Only the thought that Daichi must have Suga pinned against the door makes Iwaizumi’s face blush in a deep red. He makes his way back to his own office, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it.

Yachi looks at him from behind the desk, half of a noodle hanging from her mouth. “Oh, Lord, are you okay?” she asks, standing up. “What happened? Is Daichi-san okay?”

“Daichi is—” Iwaizumi blinks and shakes his head slightly. “Daichi is perfectly fine. It was just—um, he dropped something and—and laughed out of frustration. But everything is perfectly fine.”

The blonde girl lifts and eyebrow, chewing at her noodles. “You know I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Trust me,” Iwaizumi gulps. “You're way better believing the lie.”

“Oh,” Yachi says, looking down at the desk. Two seconds later, she looks at Iwaizumi with wide eyes. “ _Oh_. Is Suga-san visiting again?”

“What do you mean _again_?”

Yachi places both hands on top of her mouth, closing her eyes. “Shit,” she mutters, before sighing deep. “Kōshi-san has been coming a few times this week. To, um, you know, say hi to Daichi-san.”

“ _Say hi_?” Iwaizumi blinks, pointing with his finger in direction of his boss’ office. “That’s not how you say hi to your ex-boyfriend.” 

“Ex- _fiancé_.”

“Whatever,” he exclaims. “You know what? Let’s just—let’s just have lunch and go back to work. I have the hunch that this is going to be a long day.”

Yachi agrees with a nod and a groan.

—

Iwaizumi steps out of the train at Shinjuku Station at 19:43 p.m. His hands are sweaty and his legs feel like jelly, trembling with every step he takes. He's been remembering himself to take deep breathes, because everything is going to be okay. This is not the first time they met, nor the first time they talked since everything happened.

"Everything will be okay," he mutters to himself, fixing his jacket as he walks to the exit door. "You can do this."

He can't do this.

Oikawa is there, already, leaning against one of the walls of the exit hallway while he scrolls through his phone. Iwaizumi literally forgets how to breathe for a second, because the memories of all the times they already lived this scene are crowding in his head. He remembers how every time they would go to the cinema, Oikawa would wait for him at the station, in the same exact position, so they can ride the train together.

Iwaizumi shakes his head and takes a deep breathe, finally gathering the enough courage to walk towards the setter. Oikawa spots him right away; he straightens and shoves his phone in the pocket of his jacket, before walking towards Iwaizumi and meeting him in the middle.

"Hi." A heartbeat goes by.

"Hello." Hajime can't stop the small smile that appears in his mouth. Oikawa smiles back at him, briefly. Another heartbeat passes. "Are you ready to go?"

Iwaizumi nods. "Lead the way."

It’s not a problem while they leave the station, but once they’re walking through the empty, cold streets, the silence turns uncomfortable. Iwaizumi hates it, and he debates internally if he should be the one in saying something or if he should just wait for Oikawa to speak first.  

Soon one block becomes two, and then three and neither of them has say anything. Iwaizumi is hyper-aware of every single movement Oikawa makes. The way he checks the hour on his phone three times; how he clenches his fists in the pockets of his jacket every now and then; how the air around them is so cold that little clouds comes out whenever the brunette breathes through his mouth.

“So," Oikawa says suddenly. "How’s everything going?”

Iwaizumi jolts a little, taken aback. “Um, everything's going—well. I mean—some things are still blurry for me, and I get confused a lot, but—I’m working on it,” he nods. “On everything,” Hajime adds, finally looking at Oikawa. He’s not looking back at Iwaizumi, though. “What about you? How’s—how’s everything in the team and the training and—well, all?”  

Oikawa smirks. “Everything is pretty fine, at least for now,” he nods. “Our next game is this Sunday, but I assume you already know that.”

“Makki and Mattsun mentioned something about it,” Iwaizumi confirms.

Tōru hums. “Are you going?”

“I was planning to,” he nods, looking to both sides of the street before they cross it. “But if it makes you uncomfortable—I mean, you or any other player in the team, of course,” he sighs deep. “What I’m trying to say is that if you—or anyone, doesn’t want me there, I won’t go.”

“Right,” Oikawa hums again. “Most of them are your friends. You should go and support them.” The brunette shrugs. “Besides, this is not the first time you go; you never took consideration in my— _the team’s_ comfort, so why doubt now?”

Iwaizumi stops his steps and looks at the player. Oikawa stops as soon as he realizes that Hajime isn’t walking by his side anymore, and turns around to look at him. “It’s different now,” he says. “I want to fix what I did. I know it won't be easy and—and it probably will take a long time. And maybe you won't even forgive me, or believe what I will tell you. But I want to try, and if me showing up at the game makes you uncomfortable, I'm not going to go,” Iwaizumi take a deep breath, looking away from Oikawa piercing gaze. "I really want to fix things, Tōru. And I want you to listen to my side of the story. But I need you to speak your mind to me, too."

The brunette looks at his feet. "I will listen to you," he nods. "But the fact that you lose part of your memory doesn't change the past, Iwaizumi. What you did—what happened between the both of us will always be there," he says. "And I don't know if I will be able to forgive you that."

Iwaizumi forces himself to swallow the knot settled in the back of his throat. “I understand that.”

“Cool,” Oikawa nods, and then points behind his back. “This is the place,” he says. “I’ll go find us a spot.”

There’s a blue banner next to the entrance where the name Fūunji is read in white letters, and a few small slates distributed with the specialties of the house. Even from the outside, Iwaizumi can tell that is a really small place. It looks barely bigger than a hallway. He briefly thinks if Oikawa didn’t want to talk in a more private place on purpose or if he actually likes the food from here.     

After almost five minutes, Iwaizumi is about to go inside the restaurant to find Oikawa, but the brunette comes out. He’s clearly upset, by the expression he has and the way he sighs deeply, running a hand through his head. _Shit_. Iwaizumi looks away, feeling the way his cheeks burn.

“It looks like we’re out of luck today,” Tōru says, sighing again. “The place is reserved for a birthday party. Or was it a retirement party? I don’t know.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi blinks. “Um—do you want to, I don’t know. Go to a park, or find another place to eat?”

“But it’s too cold to be outside,” he whines.

“Maybe we can meet another time,” Iwaizumi offers instead. “If that’s okay for you.” Oikawa looks at him for a moment, before taking his phone out and tapping on it without even answering. “What are you doing?”

“I’m texting Kuroo,” he says simple.

“Um, okay,” Iwaizumi looks away. He takes out his own phone, realizing only then that there’s a message from Yachi: a total of six lines full of emojis and a _good luck_ wrote in capital letters at the end. Hajime smiles.

“Let’s go,” Oikawa says suddenly and Iwaizumi blinks at him. “We’re going to miss the train.”

“The train?” Iwaizumi asks, confused.

“We’re going to have dinner at my place,” is the answer Oikawa gives him.

Iwaizumi blinks once, then twice. Is he dreaming?

“I asked Tetsu-chan if he knew about any good place around here, but he said that the house is alone and that we should go there instead,” he explains.

Yep. He has to be dreaming.  

—

They miss the train.

Oikawa whines about how _it never gets on actual time except for this goddam day_ for a while, until the Marunouchi line arrives at the station. They need to walk almost seven more blocks with this one, but it’s better than waiting for the Chuo one to be back in about another half an hour in the cold weather. So they hop in, going to the seats in the most aisled corner of the wagon even though it's almost empty.

Iwaizumi tries really hard not to think about how the warmth of Oikawa's body is spreading to his own due the proximity. He tries to push away the thoughts of how warm his skin must be right now, under all the layers of clothes that he’s wearing (and how much his hands are aching for touching just a portion of that soft skin). 

His mind plays him dirty.

Soon, Hajime finds himself remembering about the old days; about how it all started between them. He remembers the innocent brushing of hands as they walked together home every afternoon, next to each other, until Iwaizumi gathered the enough courage to hold Oikawa hand one day. That became their _thing_ , whenever they walked from home to school and vice versa.

But then, at some point, it wasn't enough anymore.

Iwaizumi started to notice all of the ways Oikawa always found a way to sneak closer to him: like when they were sitting in the cafeteria at lunch and Tōru used to stretch across Iwaizumi's just to grab something that's on the other side, instead of asking Hajime to give it to him. Or how when whenever they won a set or a game, Oikawa would throw himself on top of Iwaizumi, always trusting that his best friend will be there to catch him.

But it was way more obvious when they were alone: the way Tōru would reach for his hand whenever they were watching a movie, or studying together or just lying in bed and talking about silly stuff. And how his best friend would always move a little bit closer, until he is almost on top of Hajime's lap, claiming that his room it's always too cold and Iwaizumi is like some kind of personal stove.

It took him almost two weeks to notice that _damn_ , he has feelings for Oikawa. Too loud, too stubborn and way too annoying Oikawa. But then again, Iwaizumi realizes that it wasn't a new thing: the feeling has always been there, somehow. Maybe in the way Iwaizumi would drag Oikawa and only Oikawa outside to catch bugs and pretend they knew how to play volleyball when they were five. Or in the way he promised Tōru that he would always protect him, and that he would beat anybody that dare to hurt him when they were around nine—and he kept that promise the longest he could, even beating Oikawa up for overworking and make things hard for himself. And maybe in the way Iwaizumi never doubt (not even when he was around sixteen) that he was going to spend his whole life next to Oikawa. They would grow up together, move in together and go through everything together. Good or bad, it didn't matter as long as they were together.

_Always_ together.

They kissed for the first time in the summer after turning eighteen. Iwaizumi wishes he could remember more about it, but all he’s sure about is that Oikawa was the one who initiated. It was messy and uncoordinated and even if both of them had a little bit of experience before hand, the nerves played a dirty trick against them. Hajime remember the way Tōru’s lips felt against him, hesitant and trembling, until Iwaizumi woke up from the shock and kissed him back. It wasn't in the most romantic way, nor in a romantic place (they were both sitting in Oikawa's bedroom, surrounded by school papers and Tōru’s dirty clothes), but still it was perfect for him—for both of them.

But then again, it reached a point where kissing and holding hands stopped being enough. Hajime doesn’t remember any concrete moment, but there are flashes of Oikawa’s flushed face, with his pupils dilated and his mouth hanging open as he pants for air. And there are notes of Oikawa’s voice purring and calling and moaning his name in the back of Iwaizumi’s mind. And the ghost of Oikawa's hands, touching, hugging, scratching at Iwaizumi's body is still present.  

Iwaizumi is so lost in his thoughts that he literally jumps in his seat when Oikawa stands up next to him, ready to get off of the train at the Tokyo Station. “Everything okay?”

“Yes—I’m sorry,” he nods. “I was just spacing out.”

Oikawa hums and waits in front of the door until the train stops. Iwaizumi follows him close, maybe a little bit too close considering that the train station is almost empty and there’s no risk for him to lost Oikawa’s track. But the brunette man doesn't complain about it, as they walk to the exit door and their shoulders brush together every now and then.

Iwaizumi tries to stop thinking for a moment and focus on the streets instead. They walk for almost two blocks when realization finally hits him. “We’re in Chiyoda, aren’t we?”

“Ah, yeah,” Oikawa nods with a small smile.

“So, you live here?” Hajime asks, unable to stop the next words: “You actually made it?”

Tōru seems taken aback for a moment, looking away from him. “Yeah, Ushijima found an apartment big enough for the three of us at the end of last year, and since it wasn't too expensive we move in here,” he explains. “I didn’t—um, I didn't think you would remember _that_.”

Iwaizumi looks down at his feet to hide the smile on his face. “It was all you talked about in high-school,” he shrugs. “How awesome would be to live in Chiyoda and see how the sakura blossom in spring, sitting in a small balcony and drinking coffee early in the morning, because—” Iwaizumi points a finger at Oikawa, still smiling. “—you said you would like black coffee by now.”

“Yeah, well,” the smile on Oikawa’s face seems melancholic. “Black coffee still tastes too bitter.”

Iwaizumi wants to hug him. He wants to tell Tōru that everything will be okay now and that they can do all of that together, just like he always dreamed it. But then he remembers that that’s not his reality; he’s not part of Oikawa’s dreams anymore. Damn, he’s not even part of Oikawa’s life at this point.

The air around them feels tense as Iwaizumi follows Oikawa down the street, before turning to the left in the end of the block and entering in the first building. The brunette greets the man sitting behind a desk in the lobby and Iwaizumi copies his actions, before hopping into one of the elevators with Tōru. He’s afraid of saying something that might screw things up more than they already are, so Iwaizumi remains silent until they reach the eighth floor and step out in the hallway, bumping into a really surprised Terushima. 

"Yūji?" Iwaizumi blinks. "You live here, too?"

"Ah, er—well," Terushima rubs his nape, looking away. "I was actually looking for someone but since he—I mean, since _they're_ not at home, I will be off now."

Oikawa gasps loudly. "You came to see Jiri-chan," he accuses in an exclamation, poking at Terushima's chest with his index finger. "You heard that he's sick and came to take care of your little kōhai, didn't you?"

"What are you—of course I didn't—" Iwaizumi has never seen Yūji get flushed so fast before and he needs to blink a few times to make sure he isn't dreaming nor imagining things. "I didn't come here to see Rintarō," he finally is able to pronounce. 

“Ah, I see,” Oikawa nods as he takes off the keys from his pocket. “He’s still mad at you, isn’t he?”

Terushima’s shoulders drop and he sighs, defeated. “He doesn't want to open the door.”

“Well, I understand him. I mean,” Tōru says, placing his hand on top of his chest. “You left to go overseas for work and told him to move on and find someone to be happy with. But then you came back and found out that he was actually being happy with _someone else,_ and he was actually moving on and all of that shit, and what did you do?" he rhetorically asks. "You kiss him right in front of his fiancé and ask him to marry you instead,” the brunette shakes his head. “Can you believe that, Iwa-chan? It almost seems like—"

Oikawa cuts off his own words, turning around to face Iwaizumi for the first time since they entered the building. He looks taken aback, almost shocked, and Hajime knows that his expression can't be much different. The simple nickname caused havoc inside him and left his heart beating as twice as fast.

"Alright," Terushima claps and calls for their attention. "I'll be going now; I think this is not a good time. So, um—good luck to you two, with whatever is happening in here," he motions both of them with his hand. "Let's meet this week with Yachi at lunch, yeah?" he asks Iwaizumi, but before he can even open his mouth, Yūji walks away, taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

Iwaizumi gathers the enough courage to look at Oikawa, but he doesn’t look back. Instead, the brunette opens the door and steps inside the apartment, leaving it open for Iwaizumi to follow him without saying a word. He walks into the place, looking briefly around before focusing in Oikawa again. But once again, the man looks away when their eyes meet.

It feels like whenever they take a step forward, something makes them take two steps backward and Hajime feels tired of this.

“Oikawa,” he calls softly, taking a few steps forward to reach where the brunette is standing in the kitchen.

“The food is going to get cold,” is Oikawa's answer as he looks for plates and cutlery. “We should eat first so—”

“Tōru,” Iwaizumi insist. He’s much closer now and Oikawa stiffens a little, before turning slightly to look at him. “Can we talk about this?”

Oikawa looks at him in the eyes and Iwaizumi wants to take him in his arms and kiss him deeply, until all of this is over. "I—I know," the brunette mutters then. "I know I made you come all the way here, but—I don't think I'm ready for this yet."

Iwaizumi looks away, trying hard to swallow the knot in the back of his throat. "Then," he takes a deep breath. "Can you call me when you're ready to have this conversation?" he asks. "I'll be waiting for you.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Oikawa says, so softly that Hajime barely understands. “I need some time, so—let’s have dinner first. Then—we can talk,” he nods.

It gets really awkward once they’re settled on the table. The furniture is against the wall, because Oikawa said that the three of them have enough space with just once side of the table. So they end up facing each other and Iwaizumi can’t gather courage enough to lift his head from his plate. He moves around the food, unable to eat because he feels shy. It’s really absurd, Oikawa has seen him eating half of his life and he’s _way_ messier than Iwaizumi, but it still feels a little too—

“It’s going to get cold,” Oikawa calls out, pointing at Iwaizumi’s food with his chopsticks. “You don’t like tofu agedashi anymore? I thought it was your favorite.” 

“Oh,” Iwaizumi blinks. “I do like it, I just—um, not really hungry.”

Oikawa nods. “Right,” he munches at the piece of food in his mouth. “So, how is everything going at the company?”

“Things are going well,” Hajime says, trying to sound casual. “What about you? Are you nervous about the next game?”

“Pf, _sure_ ,” Tōru waves a hand. “We are going to beat their asses. I’m not nervous, I know my team.”

_Of course you do._ “I’ll be cheering for you—um, all of you,” Iwaizumi nods.  

They fall into another silence. Iwaizumi can’t shake off the thought of how this used to be _so_ normal. It was never awkward or uncomfortable for him to be around Oikawa, but now he feels like he needs to tip-toe all the time, being careful of not saying something that might hurt or annoy the brunette. It’s tiring, but Hajime knows he drove himself into this hole, and he knows he deserves this.

Hajime is pulled out from his thoughts when Oikawa stands up from the table and goes to the small stereo placed on top of the kitchen counter. The brunette turns the device on and goes through some radio stations, until there's a soft song that catches his attention. Iwaizumi recognizes the song; it’s from one of those k-pop groups that Yachi listens to all the time, but he’s not really sure which one. He smiles a little amused when he sees Oikawa muttering along with the song as he gets a new bottle of water from the fridge and walks back to the table.   

Iwaizumi opens his mouth without even thinking: “you still do that,” he says. Oikawa stops mid-bite and looks at him. “The muttering,” Iwaizumi explains. “You used to sing under your breath all the time back then, but you haven't changed a bit.”

Tōru breaks the eye contact and looks at his food. “I think it’s the opposite,” he says, reaching for the water. “I think I actually changed a lot.”

Iwaizumi knows he fucked up again. Of course he did. "I meant about the singing, not—not everything else."

“Right,” Oikawa sighs. He leaves the chopsticks in the table, next to his plate, and looks at Iwaizumi. “What do you want from me, Iwaizumi?”

_Everything_ , he wants to say. _I want you,_ too. “I want you to forgive me,” Hajime says instead. “I told you that—that I _know_ it’s not going to be easy. And it’s probably going to take a long time,” he takes a deep breathe. “But truth is—I miss you,” he murmurs. “I miss you too much to even think in giving up on you.”

“Giving up on me _again,_ ” Oikawa corrects him, crossing his arms as he leans back on the chair.

Iwaizumi gulps and looks away. “I'm not—I can't give up on you _again_ ,” he repeats. “Not without trying to fix all the mess I made.”

The brunette hums. “I think I need a little time to think about it,” he pointed out. “It’s better if you go now and—”

“Tōru,” Iwaizumi interrupts, standing from his chair. “Please, don't push me away."

Oikawa lips are closed in a firm line for a few moments. "You pushed yourself away from me long time ago. With your lies, and the way you hide things from me. From _me_ , Iwaizumi."

“I know,” he nods, stepping closer. Oikawa leaves his chair, putting distance between the both of them. “I’m sorry about that. I was an asshole. I don’t even know—I don’t even know how to show you how sorry I am, Tōru. Please, believe me when I say I want to fix everything.”

Oikawa takes a deep breathe. “I think you should go.”

Hajime’s shoulders drop. “Okay. I’ll be going now,” he takes a step back and nods. “I’m sorry for this. And for everything. I was an idiot, Tōru, and I can’t even find a reason why I hurt you the way I did, but—I really want to fix everything. Please, believe me.”  

The brunette doesn’t look at him. Iwaizumi nods again, trying to swallow down the knot in his throat. He turns around and walks towards the door, knowing that he needs to leave soon or else he will start crying and begging Oikawa to let him get back into his life. His hand is wrapped around the door knob when there's a little pull at the back of his shirt, followed by the weight of Oikawa's head falling slightly in his left shoulder. Hajime's heart throbs faster inside his chest.

“It’s really unfair for me, you know?” He says low. “I know you had a hard time with the accident and all that came afterwards, but—you get to forget. You don’t remember the pain you felt when we broke up, nor the burning sadness inside your chest because you couldn’t go back to me," he mumbles. Iwaizumi breath falters, feeling how broken Oikawa sounds right now. "You don't remember how much it hurt, how much you cried because you didn't know what the hell you did wrong. You don't remember for a single second how it felt to lose the love of your life, the person you planed spend every day with until you die. It—it was _me_. I had to go through all of that," the tears are there, wetting the fabric in Iwaizumi's shoulder. "It's unfair, Hajime, because I had to force myself to forget you, even when I didn't want to. I had to bury every single happy memory of us, because it hurt so much to just think of you. And you should suffer as twice as me—I want you to, because _you_ left me alone. But here you are, saying that you don't remember what you did wrong and asking me to forgive you," Tōru sniffs and Iwaizumi's hands tighten in fists. "But I can't do it. It's just—it's not fair at all. Not for me. You should be the one suffering now, you should—you should be the one that remembers every single detail of our relationship and our break up and—and you should be the one hurting. Not me, not again," he shakes his head. "The fact that you had an accident and forgot about everything doesn't give you the right to come back into my life and turn everything upside down. Not again. I won't let you."

Iwaizumi can’t bring himself to say anything, because he knows Oikawa is right. So he turns around and does the only thing he knows would calm seventeen-years-old-Tōru: he hugs him tightly, with both hands wrapped around the brunette’s waits and his head buried in the other’s shoulder. Oikawa grabs the back of his shirt with a tight grip, sobbing in Iwaizumi’s shoulder as the he murmurs that _it’s okay,_ _I get it. I won’t force you to do anything._  

Hajime leaves the apartment barely five minutes after that, when Oikawa tells him that he wants to be alone. So he obeys and leaves, feeling completely defeated. It’s around ten p.m. by now and he has no idea where to go, so he leans his weight against one of the columns of the building’s façade and let’s himself slide down until he reaches the floor. Iwaizumi stays like that for ten, or maybe twenty minutes, doing nothing but breathe the cold air that surrounds him. After half an hour, he gives up.

"Hello there," Suga croons from the other side of the line.

"Kōshi," Iwaizumi sniffs, and he's not sure if he has been crying without noticing or if it’s just the cold. "Are you at your house right now?"

"What happened?" the gray haired asks concerned. "Iwaizumi, do you feel bad? Where are you?"

"I just—I don't know," Iwaizumi finally breaks, feeling the tears roll down his cheeks. "I just need someone right now. _Please_."

"I'm on a shift right now," Kōshi says softly. "But you can go to my house, okay? I’ll tell Daichi to meet you there. And my shift ends in about an hour and a half, so I'll be there soon, too."

Iwaizumi nods, before realizing Sugawara can’t see him. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon,” the doctor says. “And please, take care on your way there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot for reading, let me know what you think!   
> Hope you guys have a nice week :)   
> See you next time!


	7. Can’t promise that things won’t be broken, but I swear that I will never leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really grateful for all the people that keeps following the story. When i first post it I wasn't even expecting to get to the place we're today, so thanks a lot to everyone who reads it and waits for every update. Also thank you for the comments and the kudos, it means way more than you think to know that there's people who actually like my story :)

The feeling is overwhelming. Iwaizumi stumbles his way to the train station with his mind repeating the same scenes without a stop.

The cycle starts the moment when the manager of the National Team came to their school to personally offer Oikawa and him a place on the team. Then, the way Oikawa cried when Iwaizumi told him that he wasn't going to join, and how he seemed so angry when Hajime turned down the offer the next day. And after that, the moment when the admission letter from Nittaidai came two weeks before graduation, and how he felt when he read that he was in. And the way all the happiness in Oikawa's face faded away when Iwaizumi told him— _lied_ to him by saying he didn't make it (Iwaizumi still feels the bitter taste of the memory of his best friend telling him it was okay, because they were still there for each other). And then, Tōru found the letter from Nittaidai. And he was so angry, so disappointed. And after that, Iwaizumi confessed his actual feelings for his best friend only for them to be taken as a joke. He feels in his chest how sad—how _angry_ he got at that. And his memories end the next day—their fucking Graduation's day, when he told Oikawa that they shouldn't keep in touch anymore because they were just getting hurt by each other.

Iwaizumi remembers the anger running through his veins because Tōru was being just _so_ stubborn and wouldn't believe him. Oikawa didn't let him explain his true intentions, nor the reason why he hide that stupid letter—he just assumed, because that's what Oikawa would always do: assume the worst possible scenario, just to prevent himself from getting hurt more than necessary.

It looks like everyone was right, at the end. Kuroo, when he said that Iwaizumi rejected Oikawa; and Daichi, when he told Iwaizumi that they had a fight in Graduation's day, too. Even Matsukawa and Hanamaki, because they kept giving him hints of how Oikawa and Hajime were actually _something_ at some point.

Iwaizumi hops in the train and sits in the spot closer to the door, hiding his face between his hands to avoid the concerned look of the couple that’s sat a few sits away from him. His face must be a mess, since he has been crying from the moment he left the front of the building.

The trip to Sugawara’s place is a blur and Iwaizumi is not sure how he makes it upstairs. Nevertheless, when he knocks the door, it isn’t Daichi who opens; the slightly concerned face of Kozume Kenma is what greets him. Iwaizumi is briefly confused, and the thought that maybe he walked into the wrong building crosses his mind, but then Kenma speaks, startling him.

“You should come in,” he says. “It’s cold outside.” Iwaizumi sniffs a little —he’s not sure if he can blame the cold anymore for his dripping nose— and follows the blonde inside the apartment. “Sawamura went to the convenience store a few minutes ago, along with Shōyō, but they should come back soon.”

Iwaizumi nods. "Okay."

He drops himself on the couch, rubbing his puffy eyes a little. Hajime feels completely defeated, and tired, too, both mentally and physically. He spends a few long seconds in silence, before noticing that Kenma hasn’t spoken either. When Iwaizumi lifts his head to look at him, the blonde guy looks away. He seems out of place, shifting slightly his position every now and then.

"I'll go get you a glass of water,” he says then, walking towards the kitchen. “And tissues."

Hajime looks away, feeling ashamed. “I’ll go wash my face, but, um—water sounds good. I—thank you.”

Kozume nods. “Sure.”

Iwaizumi stops himself from hissing under his breath when he stands up from the couch and his legs scream in pain. Even though he didn’t walk much, being crouched in the cold weather for so long wasn’t a good idea. His muscles are going to hurt for a few days, probably. He makes his way to the bathroom slowly, letting slide the fact that Kenma is actually hiding in the kitchen—Iwaizumi sees the glass of water full in the kitchen counter while the blonde pretends to be filling another one.

The water is cold and he curses when it touches his face, even though it feels a little refreshing. Iwaizumi looks at his reflection and remembers the first time he saw himself after the accident, with an untidy beard and a bruise under his left eye, his face completely gaunt. It's not much different from now, he thinks; his beard is controlled and in place, and there're no bruises, but he still looks like shit. There're big black bags under his eyes, and he just looks tired. Wasted. Defeated. _You earned this yourself, bear with it._

Iwaizumi closes the tap and leans against the sink. He feels a bit nauseous and wants nothing more to lie down on his bed and disappear. Or maybe go to sleep and wake up in the past again; have the chance to fix this entire thing. Go back six years ago and have a proper talk with Oikawa about his wishes and his dreams and tell him how in love eighteen-years-old-Iwaizumi was with him. And seventeen-years-old-Iwaizumi, too. And sixteen—and twenty-three-years-old-Iwaizumi too, because who is he trying to fool? Oikawa makes his heartbeat rise just like the first day he realized his feelings for his best friend.

[Iwaizumi is under one of the big trees in the schoolyard, having lunch with Matsukawa. They chose to come outside since the weather is really hot today and the cafeteria is too crowded with sweaty teenagers to be in there.

“Why Oikawa is not glued next to you?” Mattsun asks before sipping his juice. “I though you two were like, joined by the hip, or one of you would die if you're like five feet apart from the other, or something like that.”

“Ha-ha, _very_ funny,” Iwaizumi pushes him a little. “He’s sick so he’s skipping classes for the day.”  

Issei hums and nods a little. They remain in silence a few moments, before Iwaizumi puts down his food and sighs deeply. "What got you so stressed out, dude? You haven't stopped sighing since we got here."

"It's just—" a new sigh, followed by a shake of his head. "I still haven't chosen what to do. Like, I don't know to which college I will apply—or what I want to do."

“Ah,” Mattsun nods. “I haven’t chosen yet, either,” he shrugs. “I only know that I’m going to do something relate with sports. Maybe I’ll be a P.E. teacher or some bullshit like that.” 

Iwaizumi hesitates for a moment before speaking again. "Are you and Makki going to go to college together?"

"Well," Matsukawa shifts his position. "That was the initial idea. You know, rent an apartment together and go to the same college. But things are a little bit difficult in the economy of his family now, and even if it's nothing sure, Makki might start working as soon as we graduate, instead of going to college."

"Shit," Iwaizumi whistles. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, he doesn't like to talk about that kind of stuff."

"Right," he nods and makes another pause before speaking. "You two are really close, aren’t you?"

Issei gives a little smirk. "Well, yeah. It's pretty normal, considering that we have known each other for so long," he shrugs. "I mean, you should know about that."

Iwaizumi hums. "And, um—well," he rubs his nape. "How do you feel with all of this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Going different ways," Hajime murmurs. "You are not mad at him for giving up on the plans you two make together?"

"What? No," Mattsun frowns. "It's not like he has any other choice, why would I get mad at him for this?" He sighs deeply. "I know we will probably see each other a way less than now, but that doesn't mean that we're going to lose contact. Makki is my best friend. And we have spent entire summers apart, so I think we can bear a few days or even weeks without seeing each other."

“I’m sorry, that was—that was a stupid question.”

“Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa puts a hand on his shoulder. “Does this have anything to do with Oikawa?” But Iwaizumi doesn’t answer; he’s too busy munching a mouthful of rice and avoiding any kind of eye-contact. Issei sighs deep and leans his weight on the trunk of the tree. “I was mad, actually. When Takahiro first told me, I mean,” a small pause. “We even had a fight and I left his house. But I didn’t even walk half block when I realize that it’s not his fault, and that I was being a selfish idiot. So I came back to his house to apologize,” there’s a melancholic smile on his face. “I know I’m going to miss him, we’re together almost twenty-four hours per day, but—I guess this is part of growing up, you know? Take a little bit of distance between the both of us, but without losing contact. He’s probably going to make new friends, and so am I, but that doesn’t change the fact that Makki would be the most important person for me. No matter what happens, I know that," he looks up at the sky. "Life keeps going and we have to keep growing, but that doesn't mean that we can't choose the people that will remain by our side.”

Hajime nods slightly and remains silent a little longer this time. "It does," he says. "It has to do with Oikawa."

Issei shifts his position again. "Do you—well; do you want to talk about it?"

"It's just—I don't know," he covers his face with both hands, so his voice comes out muffled. "I'm not so sure I want to play volleyball my whole life."

“And Oikawa is sure as hell that volleyball is his whole life, I get it,” Mattsun says as he nods. “But that’s _his_ life, Iwaizumi. And you have _yours_. I told you, it doesn’t matter if you two go into different paths; you are still going to be his best friend,” he reassures. “And I actually don’t think Oikawa could ever live without clinging into you, so that’s another reason for you to be super sure that you two are not going to grow apart.”

"But what if—what if he gets himself a girlfriend and just doesn't want to meet me anymore. Or if he gets mad at me for not wanting the same thing he wants. What if—"

"I don't think he has any right to get mad at you for living your own life and making your own choices," Mattsun shuts him down. "Maybe he would get mad at you, because we know how childish Oikawa is to react sometimes, but he's going to understand after some time." 

"What if he doesn't?"

"I think you should talk about it with him, first. Before he keeps growing all these illusions of you two living together and going to the same college," Issei shrugs. "Trust me, when Makki pulled me down from that cloud, it fucking hurt to hit the ground and realize that sometimes life just doesn’t go as planned. But I got used to that, so Oikawa is going to be okay at some point, too. I'm sure of that."

“Right,” Iwaizumi nods again. 

"And about that girlfriend-stuff," Mattsun says with a playful smile on his lips. "Don't play fool with me."

"Ah?"

"C'mon, Iwaizumi, it's Oikawa we're talking about here," Matsukawa bumps his shoulder against Iwaizumi's. "Are you even aware of the way he looks at you? He looks so fucking enamored that it makes me want to puke."

Hajime's face is suddenly bright red and he pushes Matsukawa away, desperately trying to hide his face. "Shut the fuck up, you’re talking nonsense," he mumbles, standing up from the bench and gathering his things. "I'm going back to class, the bell is about to ring."

Iwaizumi pushes his way through a group of girls that are gathered in the front door and storms into the building. His ears are still red and his face keeps feeling hot even when he walks into the classroom.]

Hajime blinks awake from his trance, feeling a single tear roll down his left cheek. He wipes it away and opens the tap again, washing his face one last time before trying to fix his appearance a little and step out of the bathroom. He jolts a little when he sees Kenma at the end of the hallway, a glass of water in one hand and a pill on the other one.

"I thought that maybe your head hurts, so I looked for a pill," he explains. "It was hard. Sugawara doesn't have much medicine in his house."

Iwaizumi gives a half-smile. "The tailor's wife is the worst clad," he jokes and Kenma smiles back. A little bit. "Thank you."

“Um, well,” Kozume shifts his position after handing Iwaizumi the water. “I’m not good at cooking so I can’t offer you a soup or something like that, but—” his words are cut off by a knock. Kenma jolts a little, his big eyes looking at the front door and Iwaizumi can’t stop thinking about how much he looks like a scaredy cat. “It must be them.”

Hajime nods and goes to the couch as Kenma walks straight to the door, opening the door without even looking through the peephole. It's when Iwaizumi takes the glass of water to his mouth that suddenly somebody is lifting him up by the front of his coat. He’s barely standing in the tip of his toes.

"Kuro, what the hell are you doing?" Kenma shouts —kind of— behind them. "Put him down."

But Kuroo doesn't even pay attention to his boyfriend, eyes too full on anger focused on Iwaizumi. “Now, Iwa-chan," he says mockingly. "Didn't I said that I would personally beat you until you forget your stupid name if you ever dared to hurt Tōru again?"

Iwaizumi nods slightly. "You did."

"What the hell did you did to him?" Tetsurō’s hands are trembling. "Why did he call me, crying his heart out and saying that you just left the house?"

"I didn't—"

"Don't try to play innocent," Kuroo shouts and cuts him off. "I'm going to ask you one more time: what did you—"

"Kuro," Kenma places his hand on top of Tetsurō’s arm. "Put him down."

“Who’s side are you taking, Kenma?”

“Anyone’s,” the blonde says simply. “I just don’t want you complaining that your knuckles hurt for an entire week just because you threw a punch. You have a game soon,” Tetsurō just looks at his boyfriend without saying a word, and Iwaizumi briefly thinks that maybe they’re communicating through telepathy or something. “Kuro,” Kenma’s voice changes. Softer, _sweeter_. “Put him down. You two can talk about it like civilized people.”

“He doesn't deserve that,” the taller man says in a mumble, but loose his grip on Iwaizumi's clothes anyways.

“I don’t, you’re right,” Iwaizumi finally speaks. “You should actually beat me to dead or something for what I did in the past. But,” he sighs. “I didn’t hurt Tōru this time. Not intentionally. I was just—I just wanted to talk to him and—I guess things get out of control, at some point,” he looks away. “But you should go with him. You shouldn’t be here, he’s alone and—”

“He’s with Ushijima,” it’s all he says.

“Then you should do it. Hit me,” Iwaizumi nods. He feels beaten up already, anyways.

Kuroo’s hands are tight in fists, but he doesn’t say a word. Kenma steps between them instead. “Sawamura-san and Shōyō should be here soon. Let’s wait for them. You can go and wash your face,” the blonde pats at his boyfriend’s chest. “You’re all sweaty from practice.”

To Iwaizumi’s surprise, Tetsurō walks straight to the bathroom without complaining.

-

Sugawara manages to get home earlier than Daichi and Hinata—or maybe, Iwaizumi briefly thinks, the two men are too slow at grocery shopping. The doctor smiles warmly at Kenma as he ruffles his hair when the shorter man opens the door. Then, his eyes travel to Tetsurō, who’s leaning against the bathroom door frame, and his expression gets dark.

“He’s not here to fight,” Kenma says before anyone is able to talk. “Right, Kuro?”

The taller man looks at his boyfriend, then briefly at Iwaizumi and nods. “Right.”

“Where’s Daichi?”

“He and Shōyō went to the convenience store a while ago,” Kozume answers, checking his phone. “Shōyō says that they’re coming back already,” he adds, showing to Suga’s his phone screen.

“Okay,” the doctor nods with a deep sigh. “Why don’t you go and take a shower, Hajime? You look like shit. No offense,” he smiles, patting at Iwaizumi’s back. “I’ll go get changed and then we can talk.”

Iwaizumi nods. “If it’s not much of a bother.”

“Of course not,” Suga smiles. “What about you two? Are you staying?”

“No,” Kuroo shakes his head. “It’s late already and I need to take Kenma home.”

“I can go home by myself.”

“I know that,” The taller man leans and kisses at the top of Kenma’s head, making him blush. “But I like to walk you home.”

Iwaizumi feels bad enough with himself to keep watching the couple, so he excuses himself with a murmured goodbye and steps into the bathroom once again. He leans against the door as soon as it's shut and lets out a sigh that he didn't know he was holding. The sink is still a little wet—maybe because of him, or maybe because of Tetsurō, Iwaizumi can’t care less. But he takes a towel and wipes the remains of water anyways, trying to focus his mind in anything but Oikawa right now.

He fails. Horribly.

It feels like an eternity the short lapse of time it takes Iwaizumi to undress and get under the water. He hisses at the coldness, noticing only then that he opened the wrong side but was too distracted in his thoughts to even pay attention at that. So he waits, shivering in the corner of the shower until the water gets warm enough for him to step under it. Iwaizumi rubs his face and leans his head against the wall, standing there for a few minutes.

And then, he breaks.

The first tear is followed by the second one really quickly, and then the third by the forth one, and Iwaizumi is suddenly sobbing. The guilt is killing him. The guilt, the uncertainty and the constant thought that he could've done something else, something better for them both. He _should've_. Maybe Iwaizumi could’ve tried harder to talk to Oikawa about why he lied. Maybe he could’ve tried harder to prove that his feelings were real. Maybe he could’ve tried a few years later, or the first time they met again.

Hajime takes his time in the shower. He doesn't wash his hair or body until the very last minutes, when Sugawara knocks at the door slightly and asks him is everything is fine. Iwaizumi closes the water, steps out of the shower and dries his body in a mechanic way, his mind ranting only about _Oikawa, Oikawa_ and _Oikawa_ —he even needs to take off the slippers because he put the left one in his right foot.

“Daichi and Hinata said that they’re stuck in some kind of traffic incident—nothing serious, apparently,” Kōshi tells him as soon as Iwaizumi steps in the kitchen. “They should be arriving in a few minutes.”

Iwaizumi nods slightly. “It’s fine,” he murmurs. “Are you cooking now? Do you need help?”

“I’m making something quick,” Suga smiles at him. “I didn’t have the chance to have dinner at the hospital today because it was a busy night,” he explains as he stirs something. “And I assume it was a, um—long night for you, too, and maybe you didn’t eat anything either.”

“I—wasn’t hungry.”

Kōshi nods slightly and turns off the fire. The sound of the food sizzling on the pan is the only thing filling the room. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Iwaizumi gulps loudly and opens his mouth to say something, but it takes him a few attempts for the words to finally come out. “I thought I could fix everything by just talking, but—but I should have known better,” he smiles sourly. “I know him—I know an apology won’t be enough. He’s not just—mad at me. He’s hurt. And whenever he's hurt, Oikawa goes into this kind of—mode that makes him isolate from everyone around. He doesn't listen, he doesn't give you a chance to explain yourself and—and that's what made us get into all of this in first place," Iwaizumi shakes his head. "If he had only listened to me that night, we wouldn't—this—this wouldn't—"

“What night?”

Hajime looks at Sugawara. The doctor has a concerned expression, but he doesn’t push Iwaizumi until he starts speaking by himself. “I remembered what happened.”

“Oh, that’s—” the gray-haired man blinks. “That’s really good, Hajime.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, rubbing his nape. “This whole shitty situation we’re in is just because of a huge misunderstanding.”

Sugawara frowns and leans his weight against the kitchen counter, arms crossed on top of his chest. "I'm not really sure I'm following you."

Iwaizumi sighs and sits in one of the stools. "Oikawa and I had our whole lives planned. Together," he murmurs, feeling the so known ache of melancholy in his chest. "I was fine with it, because why would I complain if I was going to spend the rest of my life next to the person that makes me happy?"

"Yeah," Suga smiles bitter. "I know about that."

Hajime shifts his position, feeling uncomfortable. "But—um, the closer we got to the Graduation, the more uneasy I felt about our plan. We were supposed to graduate and go to Nittaidai to go pro on volley and then try to be recruited by the National team," Iwaizumi tells him. "We both got in, but—but I was afraid and lied to him. I hid the letter and told Oikawa that I didn't make it; and you know what? He said it was okay as soon as we had each other," he shakes his head. "I don't think I ever felt as shittier as that day."

"I don't understand why you did it," Sugawara shrugs a little. "Wouldn't it have been easier to talk to him about it?"

"I was fucking scared of screwing everything up," he confesses. "At the time, Oikawa and I had some sort of—relationship. It was one of those no-ties-things, and we were doing just fine like that. But then I realized that I loved him since probably ever, and I got so scared when the possibility of losing him over what I wanted to do with my life came at me."

"Iwaizumi," Sugawara's tone is serious. "I know Oikawa was a temperamental little shit in high school, but I don't think that he could never—not even for a whole minute, get mad at you for not wanting to play volleyball as a pro."

"I know that," he says louder than he intended. "I know that _now_ , but back then I was eighteen and scared of not only losing the person I thought was the love of my life but my best friend as well."

Sugawara sighs deeply, but the look on his face tells Iwaizumi that he knows that feeling, too. “Go on.”

"Along with the acceptance letter came the invitation for the National team," his mouth feels heavy when he says the words. "A representative from the team came to our school to personally offer the both of us a place, and you should've seen the look on his face. Oikawa was glowing; you could feel the happiness emanating from his body. But I—I couldn't do it. I couldn't lie to him anymore," Iwaizumi rubs his face, taking a small pause. "I told him as soon as we got home that I wasn't going to accept. And all Oikawa kept saying was how I promised him that we were going to be together in this, but," he gulps and sighs deeply. "But he understood that. I promised him that it didn't matter if we weren't going to college together, or that I wouldn't be joining the team, because we were still going to be together." 

"But...?" Kōshi asks softly when Iwaizumi stops talking.

"But I didn't tell him about the letter," he nods. "And Oikawa found it around two weeks after that. The night before Graduation."

"And he got mad at you."

"He wasn't just mad at me," Iwaizumi smiles bitter. "He was _furious_. I tried to reason with him and begged for an opportunity to explain myself, but Tōru just—he just assumed that I was tired of him and wanted no longer to be his friend."

Sugawara nods, rubbing his lower lip with his thumb. "That sounds a lot like Oikawa, even today."

Hajime sighs deep. "I know," he nods. "I confessed him that I—was in love with him, who knows for how long, but," another bitter laugh. "He didn't believe me. He took it as a joke and left my house. I told myself that I would give him the night to think about it, and I would try to talk to him the next day. But things went the wrong way; he didn't let me explain anything, he avoided me and just—I kind of exploded. I—I told him that it was better if we stop seeing each other if—if he wasn't going to give me the chance to explain myself," he nods. "And he just—he shrugged at me and said it was fine. Said he already knew that day would come."

“Are you telling me,” Suga says with an incredulous look on his face. “That all these years of you two angsting were just because Oikawa was being a stubborn brat?”

“I really wish I could blame him entirely so I could get rid of the guilt, but—well, truth is I didn’t give him the chance to speak to me later.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know—knew. I knew Oikawa better than I knew myself. I knew he would eventually cool down and think about the whole topic, and would resonate about it," he explains. "I knew he would come to me later, and would try to talk about it."

“But you didn’t give him the chance to talk to you, right?” the doctor asks. “When he tried to contact you a few days later—weeks, even. You just disappeared.”

Iwaizumi nods. “I did. I was really mad at him and— _hey_!” he frowns at his friend when a dishcloth flies to his face. “What was that for?”

“I love you, Iwaizumi, I really do. You’re my best friend and I would die for you,” Suga says pointing a finger at him. “But you were the biggest asshole in the whole planet to your best friend back then. Oikawa has every right in being mad at you now."

"I know that!" Iwaizumi shots again. "I know I was an asshole but I thought—I thought it would be better for him, too! Take a bit of distance and just focus on his career."

"Then why now?" the doctor crosses his arms again. "Why are you trying to talk to him and apologize now that he's in the peak of his career?"

Hajime looks at the ground. "I still love him," he murmurs. "And I can't take it anymore. I need to—I need to talk to him and tried to fix everything I did so—so I can have him back in my life."

"You're being selfish," Kōshi says after a few moments. "Really, really selfish."

Iwaizumi nods, tears filling his eyes. “I know that.”

Sugawara walks the few steps between them and hugs his friend. Iwaizumi breaks almost immediately, leaning into the doctor’s touch as the gray-haired man caresses his back. Kōshi doesn’t say anything, just hugs him tightly until Hajime calms down a little. Both of them jolt when the lock of the front door sounds, and Sugawara breaks the hug just to clean his tears and give Iwaizumi a warm smile. “Sometimes it’s okay to be a little selfish,” he murmurs. “Everything will be okay, Hajime. Don’t worry.”

-

Its 01:04 a.m. when Iwaizumi looks at the clock—he briefly thinks that the universe really hates him as the memories of the night before graduation's day fill his mind. He rubs his face and tries to think in anything else, but it doesn't work. Hajime sighs deeply and sits in the bed, leaning his back against the wall and looking at the dark. He searches for his phone, blinking repetitively to get used to the light. Then he blinks a few times more, again, just to make sure that the notification of a text message from Oikawa is not only in his imagination but in his phone as well.

_are u sleeping?_

Hajime looks at the simple three words for a few minutes. He first wonders if it was meant to be for him, but Oikawa sent it at 00:53 a.m. and didn’t mention it was a mistake. Then, he goes through a series of possible answers until he decides that a simple _I am_ _not_ is the best. That way he won’t sound so pushy or too disinterested either. It takes a lot for him to finally send the message and once he finally does it, he throws the phone into bed to not look at it. After around ten minutes without Oikawa's response, Iwaizumi is in the process of cursing himself for not checking his phone before because _he must've fallen asleep by now_ , when the device starts vibrating. He reaches for it only to realize that it’s a call and not a text message.

Iwaizumi’s voice comes out hoarse. “Tōru?”

There’s a small pause before Oikawa starts speaking. "When I turned thirteen, you told me—no, you _promised_ me that you would take me to the Nationals. No matter what,” he mumbles the last part, as Iwaizumi nods. “But we didn't make it—not even once. And you know what, Iwa-chan? While we were in High-School, I tried really, really hard to be mad at you—at anyone, because I couldn't stop feeling this— _guilt_ inside me. It was killing me,” he confesses. “But then I would remember every single time the words you told me once: the team with the better six is the strongest. And—that helped me realized that it wasn’t only my fault, no matter how much I believed that. It wasn’t your entire fault either, nor anyone’s. We were a team, and all those times we won and lose, we did it like that; as a team."

"Oikawa, I don't—"

"Those words keep me going;” he cuts Iwaizumi off. “Not only in High-School, but in College and—” he sighs deep. “And even today, too.”

"I'm glad I was, um—helpful."

Oikawa hums low, but doesn’t reply. Iwaizumi stays there, looking at the ceiling of a room that, just like his own, feels completely strange. He listens to Tōru’s breathing, slow and calm, and briefly wonders if the younger man had fall asleep. "Did you call because—because you wanted to talk?” he murmurs, unsure of saying the next words. “Talk with me?"

"You're pushing really hard, you know?” It’s his first answer. Then he makes a small pause, adding: “I called because I want to—I want to know, I guess. What you remember," after a small pause he adds: “we didn’t really talk about it today, so—yeah.”

"Okay,” Iwaizumi agrees almost immediately. “Okay, you can—you can ask me and I will answer."

"Honestly."

Iwaizumi nods and it takes him a moment to realize that Oikawa can’t see him. "Honestly."

"Okay. So, I guess I will start asking if you, um—” he takes a deep breath. “Well, I guess you know that we were dating? Kind of, at some point."

"Yes,” Iwaizumi says in a low voice. “We started the summer after turning eighteen."

"Do you remember our last match in the Spring High Tournament?"

"I do."

"Do you remember,” Oikawa says carefully. “Do you remember the night before graduation?"

Hajime takes a deep breathe. “I do.”

“You never explained to me,” he sighs. “I guess I didn’t give you enough room for you to explain it, either.”

Iwaizumi takes a few moments, thinking carefully his next words. “You didn’t at the moment,” he nods to himself. “But I should’ve tried harder, too. We wouldn’t be here in first place if I—”

“It’s okay,” Oikawa cuts him off. “What’s done is done; we can’t go back in time to fix our mistakes.”

He gulps, rubbing his eyes. “We can’t go back in time, right?” Iwaizumi asks with a sad smile. “But we can fix our mistakes, Tōru. I just need you to listen to me and—”

“I’m not ready for that,” the player interrupts again. “During the past six years I tried to forgive you multiple times. I tried to resonate with myself, but—I still can’t do it, Iwa-chan,” he whispers as if it was a secret between them. “I still have a lot of resentment inside me and—and even if I want to forgive you, because I really want to leave this entire thing behind—I can’t. I’m not ready for it yet.”

“Tōru,” he murmurs. “Please.”

“I know it’s not your entire fault, too,” Oikawa keeps going. “I did wrong, too. I was stubborn and—and just jump into conclusions. But,” he sighs deeply. “But you left me, Iwa-chan. After all we’ve gone through, after our entire story and our promises and—and _everything_. You just disappeared and left me alone and—and I’m _so_ mad at you for that,” Iwaizumi’s heart aches when he hears the small sob that comes from the other side of the line. “I want you to suffer the same I suffer. And I know—I know you’re having a hard time. But to me, you deserve it.”

Hajime gulps and shifts his position in bed, facing the clock. 01.17 a.m. “I deserve it,” he mutters low. “I know I do, Tōru. But I want you to know, too, that I would do anything you ask me for, because—because I want you to be happy. That’s all that matters to me.”

Oikawa doesn’t answer him, but Iwaizumi can hear the soft sobs in the background of the line. He waits patiently, rubbing the tears out off his eyes too. “Iwa-chan,” he murmurs after a few moments. “Don’t tell anyone about this, yeah? Let’s keep it a secret.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi shuts his eyes and takes a deep, silently breath. “Okay, let’s keep it a secret. But, Tōru?”

“Yeah?” the player murmurs.

“I’m not afraid anymore,” Iwaizumi states firmly. “I won’t leave. Not again.”

Oikawa sniffs once more before the line goes silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that you might've been waiting for the main problem to be a huge thing, but I wanted to show that, sometimes, life works like this. Sometimes is really easy to get mad or to fight by some silly things, and the next thing you know, you're walking away from someone that was really meaningful in your life.  
> Thanks a lot for reading, see you in the next update!


	8. Can we lose our minds, and call it love for the last time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been like forever and I'm really sorry about that. I just didn't know how to put the words to get to the idea I wanted to express. But really, thank you for being patient!  
> Also, I still can't believe we've reached 100+ coments and 350+ kudos. I don't have words to express how thankful I feel for it. Thank you so, so much!

Iwaizumi wakes up feeling warm. He's still for about three seconds, blinking at the sunbathed ceiling of a room that’s clearly not his, but seems familiar anyways. It takes his brain around five seconds to finally process the fact that he feels warm because there's a body pressed next to his, and a head pillowing on his numbed left arm.

He doesn't panic. He recalls spending the night at Sugawara’s house and falling asleep together on the bed around three in the morning, both half drunk and a little bit too sad. Iwaizumi lets his thoughts lose track, thinking about how this seems to be perfect normal for Kōshi and him, but how it still feels a little bit weird, a little bit too personal—even though Iwaizumi remembers their friendship and how close they actually became in no time.

So Hajime lets himself enjoy the calm of the morning, closing his eyes and shifting a little bit his position so he’s hugging his friend closer. Sugawara’s hair tingle in his face and he represses the impulse of caressing the other’s head with his nose.

Suga hums in his sleep, sounding a lot deeper than he usually does. Then he moves closer to Iwaizumi’s body, before murmuring a: “good morning, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi leans back, breaking the contact and blinking down at Oikawa’s half naked body and his eighteen-face. Then, the calm is broken. 

-

Iwaizumi wakes up feeling warm. He's still for about three seconds, blinking at the sunbathed ceiling of a room that’s clearly not his, but seems familiar anyways. It takes his brain around five seconds to finally process the fact that he feels warm because he’s lying on Sugawara’s couch, completely hit by the morning sun that enters through the picture window.

He looks around, but there's nothing. No friend sleeping on his numbed arm, no hair tickling his nose and no half-naked-eighteen-years-old-Oikawa in his arms either.

Iwaizumi rubs his face with both hands, sighing deep and making a disgusted face at the smell of his morning breath. He sits in the couch and stretches his arms a little, before walking to the bathroom. He doesn’t have a toothbrush here, so he takes a small amount of toothpaste on his finger and brushes his teeth with that, before taking a cup of Suga’s mouthwash and gargle with it. Hajime is lost in the track of his thoughts about how breakfast is probably going to taste weird because of the mint flavor when the door of Kōshi’s room opens.

“Hajime,” the doctor whines as he knocks the door lazily. “I need to pee, hurry up.”

Iwaizumi spits the mouthwash in the sink. “I’ll be out in a second.”

Kōshi is leaning against the kitchen counter looking at the coffee maker. “I need to change this—this shit,” he complains, pointing at the machine. “I need my coffee now, not at three in the afternoon.”

"Did you woke up feeling grumpy, Kōshi?" Iwaizumi says amused. "I'll make the coffee for you, you go to the bathroom."

The doctor shows him the middle finger as he steps out of the kitchen and Iwaizumi can’t help but laugh. He leans against the kitchen counter, waiting for the coffee maker to finish and, once again, getting lost on his own thoughts. But his mind repeats fragments of the dream this time, like the way Oikawa pronounced the words, or the way his face looked in the morning, all sleepy and soft. His heartbeat speeds up with just that. Iwaizumi shakes his head and sighs deep, as a way to try to get that out of his head. But it doesn’t work, as usual his mind is a mantra of Oikawa, Oikawa, Oikawa—the machine beeps loud and Hajime jolts a little, almost throwing the cup on his hand into the ground.

“Akaashi wants to know why you are not answering him,” Sugawara says as he walks into the kitchen with his phone in hand. He looks refreshed now. “Says he will kick your ass as soon as we pick him up.”

Iwaizumi frowns. "Pick him up?"

"Yeah?" Kōshi lifts his eyebrows. "Did you forget about the game?"

"The—the game?" Hajime says, his frown deepening. "What game? Is it Sunday already?"

Now the doctor is the one that frowns. "Are you feeling okay?" He murmurs, placing his phone down and walking towards his friend. "Iwaizumi, I need you to tell me if you're having problems with your memory again. Are you forgetting stuff?"

Hajime shakes his head. "No. No, it's not that, I swear," he assures Sugawara, taking both of his wrists when the doctor reaches his face to examine him. "Kōshi, I'm fine. I promise,” but the doctor doesn’t look convinced. “Okay, you can make a checkup but I’m truly fine, really. It’s just that I woke up feeling a little lost, and didn’t remember it was Sunday.”

Sugawara sighs deeply. “Okay,” he nods. “Just answer Akaashi and tell him you’re fine and that he can kick your ass at three o’clock when we pick him up.”

"I didn't charge my phone last night. It must've turned off."

"Then you better let it charge today. You can use the charger in my room," the gray-haired man points at his room with his head. "Guys, Iwaizumi won't be answering the phone because it died yesterday. Jesus,” he pinches at the bridge of his nose. “That sounded awful. The phone is dead, not Iwaizumi. So, yeah, anything you need just—send it here and I'll tell him," there's a small sound on his phone and Iwaizumi realizes that he just send an audio message, probably to their group chat. "I hate this thing. I'm good at talking in person, but this audio-thing is a bit—ugh."

"A bit _ugh_ , right," Iwaizumi says amused and Sugawara hits him in the arm.

"Are you sure you're feeling good?" He asks after a few moments. "We can stay here, or I can drop you at your place if you want to skip the game."

Hajime shakes his head. "I'm feeling okay. Don't worry about it."

-

Iwaizumi feels kind of off the whole trip to Akaashi’s place. The dream is still replaying in his mind; the way Oikawa looked, the way he mumbled the words, the way he smiled at Iwaizumi as if he was the one and only that mattered. He feels bothered; he can’t tell for sure if it’s just a dream, or if it’s something that actually happened—if it’s actually one of the random days where he would wake up in Oikawa’s room, limbs tangled with his best friend to the point where Iwaizumi wasn’t sure where one began and the other ended.

The sound of the car’s back door getting open startles Iwaizumi awake from his daydream. “Good afternoon, sirs,” Yūji greets as he enters the car. “The annoying wants you to open the trunk, Suga.”

“I’m going to kick your ass along with Iwaizumi’s, Terushima, I swear to God,” Akaashi complains from outside the car. Iwaizumi looks back and steps out of the car. “Hello there, Hajime-san.”

Iwaizumi nods slightly. “Need some help?”

“Not really, but I won’t complain,” Hajime can’t help but think that every time Akaashi smiles, he looks even more stunning. “You seem off today, everything okay?”

“Yeah, just—” he shakes his head. “I just had a strange dream. Don’t worry about it.”

“We’re going to be late,” Sugawara complains from the front sit. “Hurry up.”

“I’m taking the front seat,” Terushima announces, already adjusting his sit belt. “You snooze, you lose, Iwaizumi.”

Hajime sighs deeply, feeling how Akaashi pats his back. "I know how you feel. He's been in my house since last night."

Ironically, Terushima is the one that ends up snoozing off. Iwaizumi is lost in the movement of his head slightly shaking from one side to the other as Sugawara turns in the corner of the streets or stops in the red lights. But then Akaashi's head is falling into his shoulder as the younger yaws tiredly and Iwaizumi wonders if they stayed awake until late, or if they even got some sleep at all. He stops himself from shrugging in response at his own question, letting his head fall on top of Keiji's instead.

This time, the game takes place at the Super Arena in Saitama’s Prefecture and, if Iwaizumi's calculations are not wrong, they have a trip of at least half an hour. So he leans back in the seat, looking out of the window since he didn’t bring his phone to distract himself, and lets his thoughts travel.

The dream is there again immediately. Iwaizumi feels a light tingle in his left arm, where dream-Oikawa had been leaning. Hajime rubs his eyes and sighs deeply, letting his eyelids fall as he leans against Keiji's —who is completely knocked out against Iwaizumi's shoulder— warmth. But having the weight and the warm of the younger’s body pressed next to him doesn’t really help. It makes everything feel too real, too reachable, and Hajime's heartbeat accelerates.

Now that he remembers mostly everything about his life, about this past six years, it’s harder. He’s not sure how past-Iwaizumi had the strength enough to keep going without Oikawa—without his best friend, his other half, his entire world. Hajime can’t understand how in the past he was able to move on, to let everything go, because now he can’t even look at Oikawa without his entire body itching with the need to be close to him.

Iwaizumi misses Oikawa. He misses his touch, his smile, the warmth of his body. He misses the way Oikawa used to make him feel—like his heart was about to jump off of his chest with just a single smile in his direction. Misses the way they would whisper into each other’s mouth in the darkness of his room at midnight, sharing their secrets or professing their love, when everything around them was so silent that he could hear Oikawa’s heart rumble along with his own. He misses the way Tōru used to kiss him, with too much of him, grabbing at Iwaizumi’s short hair like it was a lifeline. Misses his smile, the softness of his hair, his sleepy face in the mornings. He misses him, entirely. And it kind of scares him a bit, because Iwaizumi knows that if he can’t get Oikawa to forgive him at some point to become at least acquaintances, he will probably miss him his whole life. Something in his chest feels heavy and Iwaizumi forces himself to open his eyes, looking around to just make sure he's safe and okay.

“Everything okay?” Sugawara asks, looking briefly at him through the rearview mirror. 

"Yeah," he nods, clearing his throat. "I’m just a little bit nervous for the game."

"You don't have to lie to me," Kōshi says in a lower voice, like he doesn't want his friends to know. "You know you can trust me, Hajime."

Iwaizumi looks out of the window. “I dream of him,” he finally says after a few moments. “And it was so real that I guess—I guess it overwhelmed me a little.”

“That’s a normal reaction of your brain,” Sugawara smiles at him through the mirror. “It might’ve been a memory, instead of a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time that has happened to you, right?”

“Right,” Hajime nods shortly.

“We don’t have to stay,” Suga says after a while. “We can drop them at the Arena and go somewhere else.”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “I want to watch the game. It’ll be fine.”

Kōshi doesn’t answer, but with the look he gives Iwaizumi, he doesn’t have to say anything. _If anything makes you feel bad, we leave._ Hajime gives him a small, sincere smile. He’s so glad he has Suga in his life.

-

They finally arrive to the Arena around half an hour before the game starts. Akaashi wastes no time in dragging Terushima along with him, asking with his angelical face for a little bit of help to set his whole photo-equipment. Truth be told, Yūji never stood a chance against that face (Iwaizumi _knows_ that nobody actually does). So he and Sugawara go in, searching for their seats and looking for their friends, but it seems like they’re still not there.

"They should show up at any moment," the doctor says, looking at his watch. "I'll go and grab something for us to eat. Do you want anything special?"

"Anything is fine, I'm not particularly hungry," he shrugs. "I'll go to the bathroom real quick, so I won't have to go later."

Sugawara nods. "I'll text the group and say I'm at the food court."

Kōshi nods at him, before turning around and heading in direction of the stairs, waving at the court with a big smile as he walks. Iwaizumi follows his gaze, founding a jumping Hinata waving back at the doctor, forcing Kageyama, who's standing next to him with red cheeks, to wave as well. He can’t help but smile, before looking around the court to see which players are in there—Iwaizumi can’t lie to himself, though; he knows he’s looking for Oikawa. And he finds him, standing in a corner, surrounded by a few more players, his coach and Kenma. And staring right back at Hajime with those piercing eyes of his.

Suddenly, it feels like the first time they met again. Everything around Iwaizumi seems to disappear, he feels like he’s floating around and nothing but Oikawa’s eyes focused on him exist anymore. There are no gestures; there are no words or signals. They just stare back at each other for what feels like ages, even though Iwaizumi knows it probably hasn't even been a minute. But then the spell is broken, because Tetsurō is suddenly there, wrapping one arm around Oikawa’s shoulder. Hajime can’t handle it, he doesn’t get it. Kenma is standing right next to them, so why is Kuroo not hugging his own boyfriend and instead going for Iwaizumi’s— _nothing_. Tōru is not his anymore. Maybe he never was.

Iwaizumi feels bad. There’s a pressure building up in his chest, hurting and burning, and he just wants to get rid of it. He’s completely tired; of being sad, of being lost, of not understanding anything of what happens around him. He feels defeated in every possible human way, and alone, too. Even though he knows that's not true. He has Sugawara, and Sawamura, and his parents and all of his friends. But Tōru is not on the list.

Finally, Hajime forces himself to tear his eyes apart from the player. He looks around for a bit, trying to find any of his friends, but the only ones that he can spot are Akaashi, taking a few pictures of the team while they warm up, and behind him Terushima, leaning against the rail that divides the court from the harrows, as he scrolls trough his phone. Iwaizumi sighs deep, feeling a little bit annoyed because the rest of the group isn’t still here, but a little worried because of that, too. He should’ve brought his phone along with him to check on them.

It’s pretty easy to find the bathrooms this time, since the way to them is well signed. Iwaizumi walks down the hallway full of people, looking around in a desperate attempt to distract himself from his thoughts. Nevertheless, every attempt is forgotten in less than a second when there's a small fuss behind him. Iwaizumi turns around and finds Oikawa smiling down at a group of girls, writing his autograph on a poster of his face.

“Alright, ladies,” the player smiles at them. “I need to take care of a few things before the game starts, so I’ll see you around when we win,” he gives them a playful wink and the entire group sighs, before wishing Oikawa good luck and walking away. Then the player sighs deeply and turns to face Iwaizumi. “Can we talk before the game starts?” Iwaizumi nods, feeling how his heartbeat goes crazy and his hands are sweating, no matter how much he tries to stay calm. “Come with me, the dressing room is close and probably emptier than the bathroom."

Iwaizumi follows without a single word. He won’t say that he doesn’t want to go with Oikawa, since he can’t lie to himself; he knows he would follow the younger anywhere if the other just asks him to. The dressing room is actually empty when they step inside and, suddenly, there's a wave of memories washing over Iwaizumi—memories of Oikawa and him, in the dressing room of Aoba Jōsai, sneaking around and hiding from his teammates to steal kisses here and there; and memories of Oikawa in the verge of tears while Iwaizumi tries to make him feel better. It seemed so easy back then; he briefly thinks if they’ll ever go back to what they used to have.    

“Why are you here?” Oikawa asks without turning to face Iwaizumi. “I asked you—I asked you not to come today.”

Hajime frowns, feeling hurt and confused. “What are you talking about?” He takes one step further in the younger's direction. “You never told me not to come.”

Oikawa clenches his fists for a little, before searching in the left pocket of his jacket and taking out his phone. “I texted you this morning,” he says as he scrolls through the device. Then, he shows Iwaizumi their chat open and, in fact, the last text is from Oikawa around seven in the morning. “I told you not to come because I wouldn’t—I can’t—I _can’t_ concentrate with you here. Not today.”

“I— _fuck_ ,” Iwaizumi lets out the breath he’s holding, looking away. “My phone—I didn’t charge it yesterday, so I didn’t bring it with me,” he explains, his feelings too mixed to even be able to face Oikawa. “I wouldn’t show up if I’ve seen the text. I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll leave.”

But he doesn't move. He keeps looking at Oikawa, waiting for a signal, a move— _anything_ that tells him that the younger doesn't actually want him to leave. And Tōru stares back, as if he's waiting for something, too. And soon enough it becomes like some sort of competition: they just stay there, standing in front of each other waiting for the other to break down first.

_Holy shit, I want to kiss him so bad._

-

Iwaizumi sits down, feeling the piercing look of Sugawara in his face. He ignores it, he's not ready yet. Instead, he nods as a greeting towards Issei and Takahiro, who are looking at him as well. "Where's Daichi?"

"He has some work shit he needs to do," Kōshi huffs, rolling his eyes.

"But it’s Sunday?" Iwaizumi questions, receiving a shrug from the doctor.

“You’re cursing so much these days, Kōshi-kun,” Hanamaki hums. “Kind of hot, to be honest.”

 Matsukawa nods next to him. “He’s right, it is.”

“Shut the f— _shut up_ ,” Sugawara says embarrassed, crossing his arms and looking at the court. “The game is about to start.”

Iwaizumi looks at the court, where both captains are shaking hands next to the referee. Only then he realizes that he hasn’t seen Wakatoshi around as much as before, when he was still recovering from the accident. “I think is the first time I’ve seen Ushijima in like, forever.”

“He was out of the country,” Suga tells him, as they stand up to clap along with the rest of the crowd at the members of their team while they get introduced one by one and jogs to the court. “He was in his grandpa’s farm recovering from a slight injury. He sprained his ankle and wanted to be out of the media's focus.”

Hajime nods but doesn’t say anything else. Ushijima seems to be okay now, as he talks with the team in a small circle before all of them go to their positions. The initial six in the team are: Oikawa in the middle front, with Ushijima in his left side and Bokuto covering the right one. In the back position, Kageyama is standing in the middle, sided by Tetsurō and Hinata. Iwaizumi is surprised for a moment, since it’s not so usual to use two setters in the same game, but he gets it; with the game level that Oikawa and Kageyama have, it’s not a bad move to put them together. 

He looks at the bench, finding their coach—a man named Yuichi Nakagaichi, talking with Kenma and pointing slightly at their team. Next to them, Nishinoya is leaning onto his knees, eyes shifted in the court as he nods at the words the man next to him is murmuring. He looks familiar to Iwaizumi; tall, skinny and blonde, with sport glasses adjusted on his head, and it takes a moment for him to realize that he’s just another kid from Karasuno. Tsukishima, if Iwaizumi’s not wrong. The younger is wrapping his pinky and ring finger together with tape as he speaks. And next to them, Iwaizumi recognizes another man from Karasuno, Asahi Azumane, also nodding at whatever the blond man is saying.

The next person sitting in the bench sends a shiver down Iwaizumi’s spine. He’s lazily leaning his weight back, grasping the edge of the bench with both hands to support himself: Satori Tendō. The Guess Monster, as people used to call him back then. Hajime still feels the impotence that burned inside him when that high-schooler easily blocked all of his spikes.

He recalls the next man in the line from the practice game they had once: Yaku Morisuke, their second libero. The last place on the bench is taken by a man that Iwaizumi recalls from the magazines: Takanobu Aone—there's a memory in the back of his mind of Hinata telling him about this teammate of his that has _no eyebrows_ , but there's not much Iwaizumi remembers of him.

The cheers from the grandstand in front of them makes Iwaizumi look at the court. The China's team scored the first point and the six members are gathering in a short group hug. In the other side, Hinata changes place with Nishinoya in the back of the court, since they lost the serve. Iwaizumi doesn't know much of the China's National team, just that they play with more strength than tactic. Japan’s team has both; strength and brain, so it should be an easy game.

Iwaizumi is forced to eat his own words when they lose the first set. It’s rather fast; China scores the first five points in a row, and even though Japan leads the game until they’re 21-19, the opposing team scores the last six points in one go, owning completely the set. Iwaizumi feels completely impotent as he watches their team fall apart bit by bit. They seem to be tired, even though he knows they have good stamina.

Oikawa and Tetsurō are out for the second set. Kageyama takes the lead in the middle, with Tsukishima in his right side and Ushijima in the left one. Nishinoya is covering the middle in the back of the court; Hinata on his left side and Bokuto on the right one. The mechanic of the team is a bit weird in Iwaizumi’s eyes, but they manage to make it work; they lead the whole set with three to five points of difference, winning with the marked 25-21.  

Iwaizumi cheers for every point during their second set, but he can’t really focus on what is happening in the court. He’s too concentrated in what’s happening in the bench; the way Kuroo goes directly for the free spot next to Kenma, sitting a little bit too close, and how the blonde man dries the sweat from his upper back and his neck with a towel, as he murmurs words into Oikawa’s direction, who is standing in front of them drinking his bottle of water. Tōru nods at every word the younger says, adding a few things that seem to be questions. It stills shocks Hajime a little the way Oikawa seems so open to suggestions now.

“Do you think they’re going to put Oikawa in again?” Mattsun asks suddenly next to Iwaizumi.

“I think Tendō should go in with Tsukishima,” Sugawara answers from the other Iwaizumi’s side. “But it would be troublesome for Kageyama if Hinata goes out now.”

“Maybe he takes Ushijima out now,” Hanamaki shrugs.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea,” Hajime reasons. “China’s team is strong—and our team is pretty strong, too, it’s just,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I don’t think we can win this game with just our tactic. We need strength as well.”

Kōshi hums next to him. "China's team is well known from the way they learned their rivals’ tactics. We can't let them read us; I think that’s why coach Nakada is changing the team from set to set."

"I don't think that’s a good tactic either," Maki says then. "The guys can get confused around each other and that wouldn't be good."

Maki's words become true in the third set. This time, Kageyama changes his position with Oikawa, and Bokuto switches with Kuroo. They lead the set at the beginning, but soon enough they start making notable mistakes; Hinata and Oikawa doesn't connect the ball in the right time—just a second before or a second too late. And while Tsukishima manages to always adapt the jump of his blocks with all of his teammates, Tetsurō and Ushijima doesn't seem to able to do that, making the younger man always jump too early or too late to match with one of them and leaving their block with patches easy to go through. It costs them the third set. Iwaizumi is way beyond worried when Oikawa steps out of the court with his hands clenched in fists, and goes straight to the end of the bench, without even bothering in answer at the words Kenma and the coach say to him.

The fourth set has the whole stadium sit at the edge of the chair. The coach goes back to the same formation they used in the second set and even if that makes Iwaizumi feels a little bit safer about the game, there's this other part of him that can't stop thinking about Oikawa. Oikawa and how he's sitting in the bench with his head hanging between his shoulders. Oikawa and how he doesn't look at anyone, either his teammates or the game itself. Oikawa and how he doesn't stop moving his leg up and down—Iwaizumi can't help but think that that is not going to be good for his knee.

But Tetsurō is there in less than a second, wrapping an arm around Oikawa's shoulders and crashing his weight into the setter. Iwaizumi has mixed feelings swirling inside his chest as he watches how Tōru’s entire body relaxes a little. And then, Kuroo pats at his moving leg and he just stops, nodding and lifting his head to finally make eye contact with someone—with Kuroo.

To Hajime, the realization feels like a being hit by a wall of bricks. There are memories inside his head of _him_ being the one holding Oikawa’s trembling body in his arms when the younger was too stuck in his head. And memories of _him_ being the one that would say it will be fine until Tōru would finally nod at it. And memories of _him_ telling Oikawa to stop, because _it’s enough already, get out of your head_. But now—now he’s not in the picture anymore. Now, Tetsurō took his place and stands next to Oikawa with the sign of _best friend_ hanging around his neck, completely proud.

Suddenly, there’s a loud cheer around Iwaizumi, and only then he notices that the set is over. Japan won. He looks at his friends clapping euphorically and joins them, too, even if he still feels confused. How long has he been thinking about the whole matter?

“Hey,” Sugawara calls him, pulling slightly at his arm. “Are you okay?”

Iwaizumi half nods and half shakes his head. “I just got kind of lost in my own thoughts.”

“I’m about to pee myself,” Hanamaki says out of the blue. “No, scratch that. If we win, I’m gonna pee myself so stay far away.”

“ _Ha_?” Mattsun lifts his eyebrows. “What do you mean _if_ we win? Of course our team is gonna win. We have like, all the aces from Japan under their twenty five!”

Suga does a gesture at him. "What does their age even have to do with the game?"

"I don't know, honestly," Issei shrugs. "I mean, China's players are way closer to their thirties, so our boys have to be more physically prepared than them. You know, like—stamina, my man."

“What—” Iwaizumi turns to look at him. “What are you even talking about?”

“Hajime, he’s nervous, okay?” Makki pats at the other man’s left cheek. “You know how stupid he gets. Just say yes and move on.”

None of them say anything, mostly because the whistle announcing the last set sounds than for Hanamaki’s words. The starting team remains the same and Iwaizumi’s thoughts are once again focused on Oikawa. Is he okay with this? Did he ask the coach not to play? No, that’s impossible. He tries—really, he tries _really_ hard not to look, but soon his eyes leave the court and fly towards the bench.

Tōru looks better now, calmer, and Iwaizumi feels he can breathe peacefully again. He has that look on his face—the one Hajime knows from pure memory that Oikawa has every time he studies a game the night before an important match. He looks completely focused and Iwaizumi knows that he is; Tetsurō next to him could be speaking and Oikawa wouldn't even flinch because his brain is somewhere else. But now that Iwaizumi spots the tall man, he is in the same position as Oikawa; leaning forward with his arms supported on his legs, studying every single movement that happens in the court.

The game turns into a real challenge for the team. Iwaizumi knows they’re all tired and their egos are a bit beaten, but it still amazes him how every single one of the players puts all of their effort on not let the ball land into their side of the court. Nevertheless, besides all the effort and all the heart they put in the game, China gets to the match point and wins with just the small gap of two points.

Hajime feels furious because _it's just not fair_. He can’t stand to look at the way his team seems to collapse all at once, hugging briefly before each one goes for a bottle of water or a towel. His friends are in silence, the only exception being one or two curses that are heard from Hanamaki’s side. Iwaizumi knows it’s not a decisive match. They’re still into the group phase and still have a few more games before getting into the second round, where you lose and leave.

“I can’t believe this,” Kōshi murmurs next to him and Iwaizumi manages to hear him even with the loud noise of people leaving. “I can’t believe it.”

Matsukawa stands from his sit and stretches a little. “I think they play really well,” he nods to himself. “It was a strong rival, but our team gave them a run for their money.”

“I’m sure they will win the next game,” Makki says. “This was just a small trip on their way to the finals.”

They slowly start to make their way out of the stadium. It takes a few minutes to be able to go all the way down the bleachers and into the main hallway, since there are a lot of people going out as well. Iwaizumi walks in silence, casually looking at the bench of his own team until everyone leaves to the locker room.

"Iwaizumi," Suga calls him, pulling at the back of his jacket slightly to make him walk slower. "We have to wait for Akaashi and Terushima outside, so we can put all of Keiji's stuff in the car. It's going to take at least half an hour until they came out."

Hajime nods mechanically. "Okay."

"Are you stupid?" Kōshi shakes him a little. "I'm telling you that you have at least half an hour to go and check."

"Go and check?"

"Don't play fool with me. I know you want to go and check on Oikawa," the doctor says with a look that gives no room to talk back. “Now get lost. I’ll see you in the car in a bit.”

-

_Was it my fault?_

Iwaizumi turns in the corner and walks in in the hallway where the bathrooms are. It's full of people; there are cheery faces, and there are gloomy ones, but none of them matches with the expression on Hajime's face: worry. He's deeply concerned. Iwaizumi starts walking down the hallway, zigzagging around the people, with the locker rooms as the only goal in his mind.

_Should I've left?_

The locker room of the Japan’s team seems empty. There’s not a single sound coming from the inside, but Iwaizumi knows that probably everyone is too trapped in their own heads to speak to each other. That’s why he needs to go in; it’s not good for Oikawa to be alone with his own thoughts for too long. Hajime hesitates outside the door for a moment, not sure if he should knock or just walk in, but the door opens before he can even take a decision.

The coach frowns. “What are you doing here?” The man says in a deep voice. “If you want an autograph or something, you need to wait until the team is out of the stadium.”

"No, I don't—" Iwaizumi shakes his head. "I don't want an autograph—I'm a friend."

"A friend," coach Nakagaichi questions. "A friend of who?"

“I know most of them. I’m—I’m Iwaizumi Hajime.”

The older man lifts an eyebrow. “I don’t know you, and you can’t get in the locker room if you’re not part of the team anyways,” he adds with a shrug. “So wait outside until they’re out if you want to talk.”

Iwaizumi wants to insist, but the man gives him no room to do that, walking away down the hallway. So he just stays there, standing in front of the door trying to decide what to do. Finally, Hajime chooses to wait outside and walks a few steps away from the locker room, leaning his weight against a wall. 

He stands there for what feels like an eternity before the players start to finally walk out of the room. The first two that walks out are Ushijima and Tendō, followed not even a minute later by Hinata, Kageyama, Bokuto and Tsukishima—Iwaizumi is still not sure if that was the kid’s name. The next ones are the liberos, escorted by Aone and Asahi.

Hajime is in the middle of counting how many players left already when the door gets open once again and Kenma walks out. Next to him is Kuroo, walking like he’s some kind of boneless thing that only stands because of the grip Kozume has around his arm. He looks defeated and Iwaizumi feels truly bad for him; he knows how it feels to give everything and lose anyways. 

"Kuroo," Iwaizumi gathers the courage enough to speak. "It wasn't your fault. Okay? Not yours, not Oikawa's, not Ushijima's—not anyone's. The team was just too strong."

Tetsurō blinks down at him for a few seconds, seeming unimpressed. Then, he straightens and nods slightly. "Thank you," he murmurs. “Oikawa wants to be alone. If he asks you to leave—you better do it.”

The couple leaves, slowly walking down the hallway as Kenma murmurs something in a low tone towards his boyfriend. Kuroo nods a few times, before smiling slightly and kissing the top of Kozume’s head. Iwaizumi feels like some kind of intruder of their moment, so he looks away, facing now the closed door of the locker room.

The first thing he hears —aside from the horrible squeak that the door makes whenever you open it— is a low rumble of water. He walks towards the showers section immediately, stepping closer and closer to the cubicle where the noise comes from until he's standing in front of a curtain that does the job of poorly covering the shower. He can see Oikawa's figure through it anyways. The player is giving his back to Iwaizumi. His whole body is leaning against the tiles and he doesn’t really move aside from the deep breaths Hajime can see he's taking. It takes him a moment to realize that Toru's still on his game clothes, except for the shoes.

“You should change your clothes,” he says, trying not to sound as hesitant as he sounds in his own head. “You can get sick.”

Oikawa flinches at his voice, but he doesn't turn around. "I want to be alone."

"I know," Iwaizumi murmurs. "But I also know that—I know you really don't want to be alone, Tōru. You're just—"

"Stop pretending that you know me," the player says in a plain tone, finally turning around inside the shower, but looking at the tiles in the floor instead of Hajime. "You have been out of my life for six years. I changed, you changed. You don't know who I am, Iwaizumi."

Hajime nods. "You're right. I'm sorry," they stay quiet for a moment. Oikawa doesn't lift his head and Iwaizumi is really getting worried that he's still in the shower. Iwaizumi then realizes that the water must be cold, because there's no steam around and Toru shivers from time to time. "If you—if you want to be alone, I'll leave," he says softly. "But just—can you get out of there? I know you're cold, Oikawa. You need to change your clothes."

The player finally looks at him in the eyes, before turning around slightly to turn off the water. He opens the curtain and steps forward a few steps, shivering as he rounds his own body with both arms. Iwaizumi gulps heavily, taking a deep breath before being able to move and look for a towel. He walks carefully towards Oikawa with the piece of cloth in his hands and searches for any signal on the player's face, before gently wrapping both of his shoulders with the towel. Tōru doesn't say a word; instead, he leans into Hajime's body, collapsing against his chest and hiding his face in the crock of his shoulder. Iwaizumi gulps again, slowly rounding his arms around the other’s body.

"Tōru?" he whispers in the softest tone he can, not wanting to break the moment.

"Iwa-chan," the player says in a low voice. "Can you take me home tonight? I don't want to be alone."

"Yeah," Hajime nods. He briefly thinks if Oikawa can hear the way his heartbeat raised up. "Yeah. Let's go home."

-

Hajime sits on that bench for almost what feels like an hour, patiently waiting for Oikawa to take a proper shower and dry his hair. Tōru takes his time on purpose; Iwaizumi knows it is in purpose, so when they walk out of the place there won’t be people asking for photos or autographs around.

It’s already dark when they finally step out of the stadium. Oikawa gives him a short look, before walking in the direction of the team bus; Hajime knows he’s going to tell the coach that he’s going to go back home alone. On the other hand, Iwaizumi looks around in the direction of the parking lot, trying to spot any of his friends. He knows Sugawara is going to eat him alive for disappearing; that if Hajime can find him. Or any of his friends.

“I texted Kō-chan since you don’t have your phone,” Iwaizumi jolts at Oikawa’s sudden voice. “I told him that you’ll go back home later.”

Hajime nods shortly and that’s it. They don’t talk on the way to the closer train station, nor while they’re waiting at the platform. If they’re lucky, it shouldn’t be a trip longer than fifty minutes and, even if Iwaizumi hates long train rides, he doesn’t care right now. No as long as he has the chance to stay next to Tōru.

The first train arrives around ten minutes later. Iwaizumi follows Oikawa inside the emptiest wagon, sitting next to the player in the only pair of seats remaining unoccupied. After a few moments, the train begins to move and almost immediately Tōru searches in his bag until he finds his headphones; he connects them to his phone and turns to look out of the window. Just as if Iwaizumi wasn’t right next to him. He can’t say that he doesn't feel a bit hurt at that, but tries not to show it, looking at the landscapes outside the window instead. Soon enough, Hajime starts to doze off. He rests his head against the back of his seat, closing his eyes without even noticed.

-

“Hajime,” the monotonous, metallic sound of the train mixes with Oikawa’s voice. “We need to get off in the next station. C’mon, wake up.”

Iwaizumi blinks. “What?” he murmurs with a hoarse voice. “Are we here?”

“Yes,” Oikawa rolls his eyes, standing from his seat and pulling at Iwaizumi’s sleeve to urge him to stand up as well. “C’mon, let’s go.”

They walk all the way to Oikawa’s building in silence, only murmuring a greeting to the man standing behind the front desk at the lobby. This time, they don’t run into Terushima or any neighbor so, soon enough Iwaizumi is stepping inside the apartment for second time in his life. It smells like Oikawa and something else, but it's nice. _Comforting_.

“Are you hungry?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “Not really. But if you want to cook something, I can help—”

“Me? Cooking after a game?” Oikawa places a hand on top of his chest. “Yeah, sure. I was going to order something.”

“Are you hungry?”

Oikawa stays silent for a moment. “Not really. I just want to go to bed,” the player shrugs. “You can take a shower, if you want to. There are towels and a bathrobe in the bathroom. Feel free to use what—um, suits you best. I’ll put some clothes for you outside the door.”

“I thought—you said—” Iwaizumi rubs his nape. “Are you asking me to stay?”

Tōru gulps visibly and Hajime is about to take his words back, but then the younger man is nodding slightly. “I just—I don’t want to be alone.”

-

Iwaizumi steps out of the bathroom wrapped in a cloud of steam and change of clothes that feels a little too big on him. The room is completely silent, in exception of the soft murmur that comes from the television and his own steps as he walks around. He doubts for a moment, standing in front of the bedroom door with his hand wrapped in the door knob, but ends up shaking his head and walks in the room. At first, he thinks Oikawa has fallen asleep, but then he spots the light of Tōru’s phone shinning in the mess of blankets that re in the bed. 

“I know I should offer you my bed and take Kuroo’s instead,” Oikawa says suddenly, startling Hajime a little. “But his room is always too cold. And too dark,” he tells Iwaizumi, rolling in the mattress until he’s looking up at the ceiling. “And Ushiwaka’s bed is _awful_ because he has this thing where he needs a hard mattress so his back won’t get hurt and—”

“Tōru, you’re rambling,” Iwaizumi cuts him off with a soft smile. “It’s okay; you can take your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“The couch belongs to Pie and Pie only,” Oikawa shakes his head. “If Kenma founds out you stole his cat’s bed, he will get mad at you. And trust me; he can be a little shit when he’s mad.”

Iwaizumi presses his lips in a firm line, before nodding. “I guess I’ll try that hard mattress, then.”

Oikawa remains silent for a moment, looking at him. Iwaizumi can see the way his mind is working; he can see how Tōru’s debating with himself if it’s a good or a bad idea whatever he’s going to say next. When the player opens his mouth to speak, Iwaizumi holds his breath. “This bed is—big enough.”

“Okay,” Hajime nods, feeling the way his heartbeat raises from one second to another. “Okay.”

 _It’s okay_ , Iwaizumi comforts himself; _you have done this many times before._ He gulps as he walks slowly towards the bed, looking at his own feet instead of Oikawa, who’s lying in the bed, waiting for him. _It’s just Tōru;_ Hajime sits in the edge of the mattress as he slips his feet out of the slippers Oikawa has landed him. _It’s just Tōru_ ; _it’s okay_.

The player doesn’t take his eyes out of the ceiling as Iwaizumi lies down next to him and only when he turns the lights off, Hajime notices the little plastic starts and planets glued in Oikawa’s ceiling, glowing slightly. "You—you kept them?"

"You mean the stars?" Tōru shifts slightly, turning his head to look at Iwaizumi. "They're actually a gift from Tetsu-chan. I used to talk about that old projector I had in my room when I was little, and he found these once and thought that it will be a good idea to buy them for me."

Hajime hums, but doesn't say a word. He doesn't trust himself; not with the way the jealousy is boiling inside of his chest. It's kind of stupid, Iwaizumi knows that, because Oikawa always liked stars and space and all of that, so it's normal that a friend of his will gifts something related with that to him. Still, the thought that stars were _their_ thing doesn't leave Hajime's mind.

They don't talk for a long time. Iwaizumi not sure how long he has been lying there, looking at the glowing stars and thinking about everything and anything at the same time. What he knows, though, is that Oikawa is already asleep. The player has shifted a few times, rolling to one side and the other after, facing now Iwaizumi's face.

He knows it’s a bad idea as soon as he starts to shift his position as well, rolling slightly until he’s facing Tōru. Iwaizumi knows is a really, really bad idea as soon as his body seems to be moving by its own, getting slightly closer to the warmth that the player is giving off. Hell, Hajime knows it's the worst possible idea when his hand is suddenly on Oikawa's cheek, caressing it slightly. And then, Oikawa's fingers wrap around his wrist and Iwaizumi is so, so sure that he's going to pull him away, that he's going to scream that Hajime doesn't have the right to touch him, that when the player shifts closer to him and nudges into the touch of his hand, Hajime's heart almost jumps out of his chest.

“Tōru,” Iwaizumi whispers as if he’s sharing a secret; as if somebody could hear them. “Can we pretend—can we pretend that we’re seventeen again?” he murmurs slowly, taking a small pause before pronouncing the next words. “Can we pretend you still love me like you loved me back then?” his voice trembles. “Just for tonight—let me—let me kiss you one more time.”

Oikawa gulps loudly, before nodding just once. “Just for tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made a [Twitter](https://twitter.com/k0zumekun) account in case you want to come and scream at me. I'm friendly, I swear  
> Hope you liked this chapter, and thanks a lot for reading it! Let me know what you think about it.  
> See you next time, have a nice week!


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